


The Princess of Darkness

by Maxx_Mouse1441



Series: The Darkness Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, There's a multitude of others, can't write them all, female-female relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2018-12-20 02:05:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 75,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxx_Mouse1441/pseuds/Maxx_Mouse1441
Summary: The sequel to "The Daughter of Darkness." It follows Hermione and Bellatrix into Hermione's sixth year. There's drama, fighting, and Hermione's never-ending battle of growing into the person she is supposed to be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part two of my trilogy! I appreciate every comment and bookmark and kudo and I hope you can enjoy this one too.
> 
> WARNING: Sexy stuff in part of this chapter.

Cornelius Fudge was in trouble and he knew it. Deniability was no longer a viable option and he was floundering under paperwork and scrutiny that he'd never expected to have when he'd taken office years ago. He'd argued and screamed, fight tooth and nail to convince the world He wasn't back and now, months later, he was trying desperately to regain footing with the Ministry _and_ the entire Wizarding World.

The Daily Prophet retracted their former accusations and nasty words about Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore, trying to placate the angered masses – to fix the chaos Fudge had unwittingly tossed them into - while the Minister himself contemplated his life and the position he was in. Should he step down? Would everyone continue to blame them for the lack of awareness and planning?

How could he get out of this alive?

He glared at the paper resting in front of him and sighed. The world felt new and unknown, yet so old and familiar. They'd suffered through this before, but this was different. You-Know-Who already had followers and a platform; he could advance farther without the resistance he had the first go-round.

There was no proof as to who his followers were. Most of the Death Eaters had escaped the Ministry, leaving behind only a few stragglers and no-name criminals who He must have corralled into his army. None of their suspected Death Eaters had been caught and it left a horrible taste in his mouth. His dementors were revolting, wizards were calling him every terrible name they could think of and his nerves were shot to hell and back.

He was stuck – and it was his ignorance that caused all of his problems.

_What am I going to do?_

-X-

Malfoy Manor was just how Hermione remembered it. The iron gate stood tall, intimidating and commanding. It was a symbol of strength and power, towering over them and casting shadows along her body. Her things were hurriedly taken from her hands the moment she stepped through the gateway and onto the grounds. Death Eaters were milling about; some waved awkwardly while others smiled genuinely at her and the Malfoys.

Draco ushered her along. "Come. I'm sure Aunt Bella is dying to see you and I would like to miss your impending _explicit_ reunion."

Lucius chuckled, his wife rolling her eyes at Draco's comment. He wasn't wrong, but he was not the only one who wanted to avoid the scene. It was bound to be graphic and clothes were surely going to be strewn throughout her home.

Hermione followed Draco's lead and slipped into the manor, only to be jerked from his side and slammed into the wall next to the door. Desperate lips meshed with her own, teeth digging into her bottom lip and sharp nails dug – almost painfully – into the skin exposed by the slight gap of her shirt and jeans. She flushed with desire and her moan was swallowed greedily.

"Really, Bella?" Narcissa snorted in disgust, steering Draco away. "At least wait until you're in your room."

"Good idea," the dark witch purred, stepping back. She grasped Hermione's hand and tugged her toward the stairs. Dolohov was laughing boisterously from his perch on the second floor railing, shaking his head while they rushed up to the third landing. He'd hope to greet the young Riddle, but alas, he would have to wait until later.

Bellatrix threw open the door and led Hermione inside, closing the door by pressing her roughly against it. She eagerly started pulling on Hermione's shirt, only to have gentle hands stopping hers.

"Slow down," Hermione panted with a smile. "We have time."

Bellatrix relaxed, smiling contentedly at her lover. "Merlin I've missed you."

"I missed you too," Hermione admitted, cupping Bellatrix's cheeks and kissing her so sweetly that tears sprang to the Death Eater's eyes. She'd never known someone so tender yet so fierce. She was passionate and brilliant with a streak of darkness that was entirely too sexy – and she was all Bella's.

Deepening the kiss, Bellatrix licked the back of Hermione's teeth playfully. Her fingers drifted along the plane of Hermione's stomach, a warm thigh pressing between the Gryffindor's legs. Groaning, Hermione's head banged against the door and her hands slipped into inky curls. "Merlin…"

A husky chuckle escaped Bellatrix's throat and she studied her lover, her gaze trailing along the curve of her jaw and downward to her waistline. "Bella will do," she replied cheekily.

Hermione's eyes were almost black, her pupils so dilated that they were drowning her irises. Lust swirled around the remaining color and she urged Bellatrix backward, delicately touching the older woman's shoulders so she could shove her onto the bed. She fell onto the mattress with an "oomph" and Hermione straddled her hips, capturing her in a sensual kiss and grinding salaciously against her clothed center. Bellatrix gripped Hermione's sides, intent to flip them but Hermione merely pushed against the woman's chest and pinned her.

"Not a chance," she purred. "You do what _I_ say right now. Don't move."

Bellatrix's eyes widened and she swallowed dryly. Hermione was never dominant. Even during the Hogsmeade rendezvous, she'd remained rather submissive. This was a side of Hermione she'd never seen – and it instantly made her wet.

"Do you understand?" Bellatrix nodded so fast she was certain she'd give herself whiplash.

Hermione dragged a nail along Bellatrix's pale throat and smirked at the pounding pulse she found there. She'd never felt so empowered before; the right hand of the Dark Lord submitting to her command was the greatest ego boost she would ever encounter. A single line of red was left in her finger's wake, marring Bella's pale flesh.

She ground her hips harder into Bellatrix's, an obscene moan slipping from parted lips. Bellatrix's chest rose and fell rapidly, attentively watching her girlfriend's every move. Wet heat dampened the apex of her thighs, ruining her black lace panties. She ached to rub them together – to quench the burning - but it was impossible with Hermione resting tantalizingly on her hips, pinning her – willing – body to the mattress.

"Patience." Hermione winked lecherously, running her hands up her body and palming her own breasts teasingly, head tossed back as she played with her nipples. She could feel Bellatrix's need pulsing through her veins and it served only to intensify her own. Fire pooled in her belly and she decided that torturing Bellatrix wasn't worth it. She needed her and she needed her _now_. "Undress me."

Bellatrix jerked into an upright position, spreading Hermione's legs slightly and settling her comfortably on her lap. She tugged at Hermione's shirt, nearly ripping it in her haste to remove it from her lover and she nearly came at the sensation of Hermione's bared body beneath her hands. Her fingers flexed, the urge to stroke Hermione's exposed, supple skin.

"Touch me," Hermione commanded breathlessly. Her eyes rolled back in her head when her lover hurriedly unclasped her bra and her taut nipple was trapped between soft lips while the other was caught by Bellatrix's thumb and forefinger, tweaking it expertly. She knew exactly how to stoke Hermione's heat; strum her body like an instrument that only she could play.

Hiking up the Gryffindor's skirt with her free hand, her digits slid along sodden panties and arousal soaked thighs. She pressed her thumb against Hermione's engorged clit and a wanton moan echoed through the room, Hermione rolling her hips desperately, following the sensation in hopes of coaxing more.

Hermione gripped Bellatrix's hair painfully and tugged, smashing their lips together. "Fuck me," she whined, mouth never leaving Bella's. "Now."

With a sharp twist, Hermione's panties were snapped in two and the cool air on her heated center felt amazing. Groaning brokenly, she grasped Bellatrix's hand and shoved it between her legs. Two fingers were shoved deep inside and she shamelessly rode Bellatrix's hand, the dark witch's arm encircling her waist to keep her upright. The angle was awkward for her wrist, but Bellatrix was so enthralled at the sight of Hermione losing control that she paid no attention to it. She'd never seen such a glorious sight; Hermione, head thrown back, flushed with need and a constant stream of pleas and moans eclipsing the sound of Bellatrix's labored breathing.

Bellatrix curled her fingers and stroked firmly, her own whimper escaping as slick walls clamped down hard. Circling Hermione's clit with her thumb, she watched her lover tumble over the edge into ecstasy. Hermione's head fell forward against Bellatrix's shoulder and writhed uncontrollably as pleasure washed over her and liquid fire rushed through her veins, her teeth sinking into the flesh she found there.

Dragging out the last of Hermione's orgasm, Bellatrix kept Hermione close. Her lover released her burning shoulder but she didn't complain. Knowing she'd sport a bruise was exhilarating.

Freeing her hand, she couldn't help but glide her fingers into her mouth and moaned appreciatively when the taste of something purely _Hermione_ touched her tongue.

Leaning back, Hermione nudged Bellatrix's digits from her mouth and captured her lips in a searing kiss. "Merlin, that was amazing," the younger woman panted. She pressed her forehead to Bellatrix's and sighed blissfully. "I'm so glad to be home."

-X-

Lounging in the summer sun, Hermione was gazing at the grounds of the manor. Narcissa's prized garden was alive with growth and color, flowers swaying in the light breeze. It was the first time she'd come out since she arrived, having been holed up with Bellatrix in their room. For three days they'd tangled themselves in the sheets, alternating between making love, fucking _hard_ , and talking late into the night. Narcissa had sent elves to deliver their meals and Draco found deep enjoyment in banging randomly on their door as he passed.

One _Anteoculatia_ later, he decided that wasn't such a good idea anymore.

Beams of light danced across her face and she tilted her head back, grinning at the twinge of pain that emanated whenever she moved her neck. She had a multitude of bites and bruises littering her body, but Bellatrix seemed particularly dedicated to covering every inch of visible flesh in purpling marks. Her shoulder had prominent teeth marks imprinted just beside the apex of her shoulder and throat, proudly displayed for all to see. Whenever her fingers danced along her shirt, she could still feel the indentions and it flooded her system with arousal and pride.

Who knew she'd like being marked by another?

Embracing the warmth, Hermione lied on her back and sighed. This summer marked a new chapter in her life. Last summer, she was tucked away in a muggle home with two people she was certain were her parents; waiting impatiently for the day to come where she could see her friends and leave that particular world behind.

Just one year had answered a lifetime of questions and changed the world – both for the better _and_ for the worse. No longer was she trapped in unknowns that had once threatened to strangle her. No longer was her world bleak and disparaging.

Now she had a lover who made her heart flutter and her mind swim with possibilities of their future. Now she had friends that she could rely on – that cared about her and expected nothing in return. Now she knew where she'd come from and some vague idea of where she could go from there. Now she had a real family; _adopted_ into a family that genuinely wanted her around and a motherly figure she never realized she needed, a brother who was loyal to a fault and a man who would stand beside her no matter what, and a fatherly man who was more like a cool uncle than a father (she already had one of those). Now…she wasn't alone.

Quite literally.

Draco dropped onto the grass beside her, a mirthful smirk upticking his lips. "My, my, look who finally came up for air." He eyed her purpled skin, but didn't mention it. She was clearly ecstatic to wear them like badges of honor and if she was happy, he was happy.

Hermione arched her brow and returned the smirk. "You have _no_ idea how many times I didn't." She gave an exaggerated wink and he paled.

"Fuck, I didn't need to know that." His face twisted in disgust and he pretended to heave, though he could _actually_ feel bile rising in his throat. "There are certain things a man never needs to know. This is one of those things."

Barking with laughter, Hermione shook her head. "You started it."

He hummed noncommittally. "It's so nice to be out for summer holiday. After those last few days, I can't imagine staying there any longer."

"I can't either," she confessed, her gaze falling to the clouds above. "Sometimes it's hard to remember we're still teenagers. All of the things we've been through have been…" she trailed off thoughtfully.

"…too much for anyone, let alone children," he finished with a nod. "I know. But we're strong and we can do accomplish anything. I am a Malfoy and you are a Riddle; there is nothing we _can't_ do."

"We need more practice," Hermione mused, biting her bottom lip until it stung beneath the pressure. "The Death Eaters let us win those fights but it was still difficult. I cannot imagine what damage they could do if they'd tried."

"You're right," he conceded, exhaling harshly through his nose. "We're lucky that Rodolphus was the only one to ignore orders. If that spell had hit Ginny…" he shuddered noticeably.

"I do have a question though." Draco's brow arched. "Why are we allowed to practice without consequences? Students aren't permitted to use spells outside of school and yet, we dueled throughout of winter break without repercussion."

Chuckling, he patted her shoulder. "I forget you haven't been in this particular world very long. We have power and money, Hermione. It gives us leeway that no others could have. With Father's connections and Mother's bloodline, we are gifted with opportunities most cannot begin to fathom."

"Huh." Hermione had gone so long being looked down upon for being muggleborn that having freedoms was peculiar and often forgotten. Wealth seemed to influence the world – even the Wizarding one – and it made her ill. Why should she be above the law when Ginny's family couldn't? They were of the same status and yet, had Ginny or Ron tried to do the same, they'd get warnings from the Ministry and threats of expulsion. If they were rich, it wouldn't be a problem and that was _asinine_ and _wrong_ in ways she couldn't begin to describe.

Her stomach clenched and her heart thudded sharply in her chest, magic sparking from her fingertips and threatening to consume her; to drown her in rage. It was disturbing and entirely uncalled for so she shoved it aside and focused her attention on the clouds, though the emotions remained.

_What the hell is going on?_

"Don't think about it," Draco advised kindly, dragging her back into the present. "I know it makes no sense, but we can't change the world – not yet. If your prophecy is right and the Dark Lord wins this war, I have faith that you can fix the problems the Ministry has created. People are judgmental and complacent. If it doesn't affect them, it doesn't matter and they won't care if their laws and prejudices hurt others. People like Fudge only worry about themselves and look where that's gotten us. Magical Creature restrictions that are beyond ridiculous; politicians that would rather line their wallets and pad their pockets instead of doing their jobs and it's fucked up, I know.

"I believe mudbloods are a disgrace to the Wizarding World but even I know that all forms of magical creatures have their place. Centaurs, giants, werewolves – they all serve a purpose. Pretending they shouldn't be here is as much of a disgrace as mudbloods. Witches and wizards aren't the only ones that have rights and feelings, just look at Greyback. If your family reclaims this world, I know we can change it. But for now, we use our privileges and go on."

Hermione blinked. Most of the time, they'd avoided conversations about blood status and magical creatures, so it was a bit startling to hear Draco so passionate about them. He wasn't a bad man; he was simply prejudice. Being born into a pureblooded society, he wasn't given the option to _not_ be. So to see another side of him – compassionate toward magical creatures – was strange and bewildering.

He smiled sheepishly and massaged the back of his neck. "Sorry. I got a bit carried away."

"That's perfectly alright," Hermione assured, eyes widened owlishly. She must have looked comical, but Draco made no remark.

"What are your summer plans?" he inquired when the silence became overbearing.

"Well," she hummed, "I hope to spend time at my mother's home and go through her belongings. I didn't have the chance during winter break to really do anything and now seems like a good opportunity. I want to know more about her and where I came from. There's so much I don't know and Father can only tell me tidbits. She seemed incredible and getting to know who she was might fill the gaps and voids left behind."

Draco's head bobbed in understanding. "I can't imagine not knowing my parents. It must be hard."

Hermione stayed quiet, staring at the puffy white drifting along the sky. She'd always wondered what it'd be like to fly among them – to be as free as the birds and above all of her troubles.

"What do you plan to do?"

Draco paled slightly and he wrung his hands nervously. "O-oh, you know. Meet up with Crabbe and Goyle, spend time with you and my parents and Aunt Bella. The basics, I guess."

Twigs snapped beneath heavy boots before she could reply and Hermione contorted her head awkwardly, peering up at an anxious Greyback.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt, but," he coughed uncomfortably. "Ya might wanna come inside. Bellatrix is on a war path and it ain't pretty."

Suddenly, the feeling of rage simmering in her veins made sense and she was on her feet in seconds, taking off toward the house. She didn't know - nor care - if Draco or Greyback followed. All that mattered was getting to Bellatrix before she leveled the manor with her unbridled fury.

"Those insolent little worms!" Bellatrix's booming voice greeted Hermione as she threw open the door. "I will skin every last one of them alive! To not only disobey the Dark Lord's orders, but to run? They do not deserve to take another breath!"

Greyback gripped Hermione's shoulder before she could chase the sound. "The Lestranges and Yaxley 'ave dis'ppeared. They were angry that the Dark Lord punished Rod for nearly killin' Bellatrix's niece – considerin' He said not to hurt your friends and he was aimin' for the Weasley girl – and they haven't been seen since. The Dark Lord thinks they've gone to their lil' army and instead of just killin' Lucius and Bella, they might be considerin' tryin' to overthrow Him."

Hermione inhaled sharply.

"I will kill all of them! If they dare show their faces again, I will rip them limb from limb!"

"She's in the sittin' room with Narcissa," he said, offering her a sympathetic shrug. "Good luck."

Strolling hurriedly through the manor, she shoved open the door and she gaped at the sight before her. Broken chairs littered the floor, Narcissa's wooden table was smashed in half, there were tears in the walls as though Bellatrix had flung a plethora of spells about, and said woman was pacing furiously in front of Narcissa, who seemed unperturbed by her sister's tantrum. She was settled on the only piece of furniture intact and watching Bellatrix with a composure Hermione could not imagine possessing.

"To threaten me is one thing, but to turn their backs on the Dark Lord? It's unacceptable!" Bellatrix screamed, completely unaware of her lover's arrival.

"Bella, you know as well as I do that Rodolphus cares very little for children. To be reprimanded for targeting one was too much. He does not concern himself with them and he couldn't believe that their lives meant more than his. He's conceited and vain. I am not at all surprised by his actions," Narcissa replied coolly, glancing at Hermione.

Bellatrix's head shook jerkily. "There are plenty of lives worth more than his! A mudblood's has more value than his!"

"You know He only allowed them into his ranks to ensure the Lestrange bloodline carried on. There are few purebloods left in this world and He believed keeping them would strengthen that. Plus, at the time, you _were_ married to him," Narcissa pointed out.

Huffing, Bellatrix leveled a glare at Narcissa before her gaze flickered to Hermione. Her expression softened and her stiffness drained away. She did not want to frighten the Gryffindor. "Hello, love."

Hermione walked over to her, carefully stepping over the debris and nudging the two-legged chair out of her path. "Are you okay?" She stroked Bellatrix's cheek, smiling when the dark witch nuzzled her palm.

"Not really, but you being here helps," Bellatrix admitted, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to it. "Why are you here, though? I thought you were roaming the grounds, enjoying the sun."

"Greyback found me and filled me in. He thought I might be able to help calm you." She tucked herself into Bellatrix's arms and kissed her prominent collarbone.

Bellatrix chuckled humorlessly, but held her close. "He isn't wrong, but I had hoped you wouldn't see this."

Tugging back, Hermione peered into her lover's apprehensive eyes. "I want to see all parts of you, Bella, not just the good. You're a Death Eater, right hand of the Dark Lord. You have a good side, but you also have a dark, dangerous side. They are all a part of you and I've always known that." She shrugged. "If we are to be together, I _need_ to see them."

Bellatrix kissed her languidly before resting her forehead against Hermione's. "Okay."

Narcissa cleared her throat. "Is it safe to restore my sitting room now, Bella?" she asked drily, though a playful twinkle in her baby blues softened the bite.

"Yes, Cissy," Bellatrix laughed, her lingering fury dialing back to an irritated boil.

"This is Bellatrix's rage room," Narcissa explained when Hermione glanced between them inquisitively. "She's always been prone to tantrums," Bellatrix stuck her tongue out, "So we designated this room for these moments. She is free to destroy it because it's easy to fix whatever she's broken. Everything in here is replaceable or easily mended." She snapped her fingers and Tinsley appeared. "Restore my furniture to its original state and fix the walls. I expect everything Bellatrix messed up to be taken care of in the next hour."

"Yes ma'am."

Narcissa led the couple from the room, leaving Tinsley to her task. "Why don't you go duel with a few Death Eaters, Bella? Channel your anger into teaching Hermione and Draco. With everything happening in the next year, they'll need to be in top shape. I can send Lucius to join you," she suggested.

"You should practice too, Cissy. You will need to be ready," Bellatrix replied with a meaningful look.

Humming with approval, Narcissa disappeared to search from her husband in lieu of replying.

-X-

Bellatrix bowed, wand pressed to her chest. Her opponent mirrored the action before narrowing their eyes at the Death Eater. Widening their stance, they awaited the typical flurry of spells that were bound to come.

"They're something, aren't they?" Lucius murmured, watching the impending battle curiously. "They're quite a sight; two Black women facing off in a battle of, not only strength, but wit. They know each other better than almost anyone. Growing up together, they're incredibly familiar with the other's style. It's a dance instead of a duel, really." Dolohov and Mulciber nodded, attention glued on the women while Hermione stared on in fascination.

Narcissa was unfazed by Bellatrix's battle cry and stood impassively, subtly shifting onto her back foot. She could feel her husband's appraisal, tracing her curves with a lecherous grin. He always loved to watch her duel and it usually ended with them collapsing into a sweaty heap late into the night.

"Keep it in your pants," Hermione joked, poking the taller man's ribs as his eyes drifted dangerously low.

"Might want to take your own advice," he retorted, chuckling at the blush that spread along Hermione's throat though she didn't try and deny it.

Her lover was _hot._

"Gross," Draco gagged, rolling his eyes. He would never admit it but he was a little envious. He desperately craved for what his parents and Hermione had; someone who would love them unconditionally and be there for him, someone he could hold on to at night and feel all the stresses of the world drain away. He wanted the kind of love they had.

Hermione smirked at the youngest Malfoy. "We need to find you a partner, Draco, just so we can tease you over your staring. Maybe Pansy." His eyes widened in horror. "Or maybe Luna." She wagged her eyebrows jokingly, but his response dumbfounded her.

"She's pining over Neville and he's too stupid to realize it," he grumbled absently, glaring at the grass before him. His heart dropped at the jealousy dripping from the blurted words and spared Hermione a quick peek, embarrassment painting his cheeks.

Hermione blinked once. Twice. Her lips parted with a million silent questions but nothing came out, stuck in the back of her throat. "Huh?"

"Drop it," he begged, frantically shaking his head. "Please."

She gaped at the Slytherin, but did as he asked. She shook her head in hopes of clearing her mind, but her thoughts were an flurry of bewilderment and wonder. _Wow, I wasn't expecting_ that. _How could I have missed that?_ _We'll definitely need to address this again…_

With a cackle, Bellatrix started attacking her sister with an onslaught of dark, powerful spells. She weaved about gracefully, her corset clinging deliciously to her lithe body.

_…but later._

Bellatrix bounded closer, her spells slamming into Narcissa's shield and bouncing off aimlessly. She wasn't trying to hit the youngest Black sister, but merely weaken her defense until it shattered into nothing. She was known to be defensive while Bellatrix was incredibly offensive but Narcissa was too predictable – too choreographed.

The moment the shield gave, Bellatrix flung every nonlethal spell in her arsenal at her sister. Jerking out of the way, Narcissa was forced to retaliate before she was hit. Her strength in a fight wasn't as mighty as Bellatrix's, but she was calculating and, often, underestimated. She often fell into a rhythm that Bellatrix found telegraphed, but most paid such little attention to her that it wasn't problematic. Everyone feared the eldest Black, not the youngest.

"Stupefy!" The jet of red flew past her head and she ducked.

"Confringo!"

Bellatrix shrieked in surprise as the hemline of her skirt went up in flames. She hurriedly doused away the fire with a flourish of her wand, pouting at the smoke that rose from the ruined fabric. "Cissy! You burned my skirt!"

Narcissa snickered. "That's for all the times you've destroyed my garden. And the manor. And…"

"Enough," Bellatrix whined childishly, brushing away the singed strings clinging lifelessly to the bottom of her skirt and fighting back the urge to stomp her foot.

"I thought we weren't supposed to get distracted during battle, Bella?" Hermione called out teasingly, crossing her arms. Bellatrix's pout deepened and she did the most mature thing she could think of in that moment.

She stuck her tongue out.

"You'd think _she_ was the teenager here," Draco snorted, his keen gaze observing the entirety of the scene.

While Bellatrix was busy pouting at her lover, he'd noticed his mother eyeing the other witch critically with a mischievous smirk. Narcissa muttered something almost inaudibly, twirling her wand in a way Draco had never seen, and the spectators stared on in amazement as a long black tail sprouted from beneath Bellatrix's scorched garment.

The dark witch's eyes widened incredulously and she cautiously peered down, blanching at the furry appendage.

"Hermione's right, Bellatrix," Narcissa taunted, "You really should stay focused."

Bellatrix glared indignantly, her tail flicking about with each clench of her muscles.

_At least it isn't a pig's tail._

-X-

Gentle fingers traced along the smooth expansion of skin presented, nails dragging lightly across prominent bones and an abundant of bites. They mapped out the flesh they'd memorized months ago, committing each dip and new scratch to heart. Finding fresh scars was inevitable when your lover was a Death Eater, but that didn't stop Hermione from fussing.

"What's this one from?" Hermione wondered aloud, brushing a white, thin line marring Bellatrix's quivering throat.

Bellatrix hummed, a little breathless beneath innocuous ministrations and curious hands. It wasn't sexual, but it was so intimate that it stole the very air from her lungs.

"When I was a seventh year, I couldn't stand Lucius. I thought he was a pompous arse and I would do whatever I could to keep him from Cissy. I knew Father wanted to marry her into the Malfoy family and I thought, if I tormented him enough, he'd beg our fathers to call off their engagement before it ever happened. Clearly, I was wrong – on both counts – but younger me wouldn't acknowledge that maybe he _wasn't_ so terrible, so during Defense Against the Dark Arts, I shot a nasty spell at him and it knocked him out cold.

"I was so proud of myself," Bellatrix laughed, "But Cissy… Merlin, she was so pissed at me. In the Slytherin common room, in front of everyone, my third year sister pelted me with whatever textbooks she could get her hands on. Like, she _threw_ them at me - with her hands. I was so surprised that I barely felt the corner of one catch my throat and it managed to break skin. I had no idea it was bleeding until Cissy calmed down and helped me clean it."

Hermione giggled. She could picture it perfectly: furious teenager Narcissa flinging textbooks indignantly at Bellatrix, the latter gaping with astonishment. She could only imagine the dressing down Bellatrix received during the confrontation. It must have been comical, both her lover's expression and Narcissa's ire.

"Can I see that memory sometime?" the younger witch smirked. "I _have_ to see that or I might _actually_ die."

Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix poked Hermione's side. "You're so dramatic."

"Me? Dramatic? Never." Hermione gave an exaggerated bat of her eyes and stuck her bottom lip out. "Why would you say something like that? I'm hurt."

Bellatrix laughed huskily and cupped Hermione's cheek, tilting her head slightly and nipping at the proffered lip. She was quick to sooth the sting away and moaned headily into her lover's open mouth. If her lover wanted the memory, she would give it to her. She would give Hermione anything her heart desired; would bring the world to its knees if she asked.

But later…

Much later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of drama filled chapter but the next one is fluffy to make up for it.

_There was something odd about this place, Hermione realized. She was standing at the edge of a high cliff, the cool winds of the sea brushing along her face. She could taste the salt, almost overpowering and it made her eyes burn. She'd never experienced a dream so realistic before and it was startling._

I feel like I've been here before. _Worrying her bottom lip, dark eyes stared out to where the horizon met the dark waters, blending into a mass of nothingness._

_Waves crashed into the rocks below, deafening in the uneasy silence. She glanced about, noting the trees surrounding the little clearing. They cast shadows upon the grass and added to the eeriness. Shivers crept along her spine and something uncomfortable settled in the pit of her stomach._

_The longer she stood there, the more she wanted to leave._

_Steeling herself, Hermione ventured away from the cliff and wandered into the leftmost line of trees. There was a reason she was here; there had to be. Besides, it was a dream. Nothing bad could happen to her here…_

_Right?_

_The wooded area held little light; there were only glimpses of moonlight beaming through the undergrowth and treetops, lighting only the path she supposed that she was meant to follow. The leaves tickled her exposed arms and she shied away from them the best she could. She could see small bugs clinging to them. It almost looked like they were staring back at her, watching her every move._

_She shook her head and shoved the lower hanging limbs aside. It was crazy to think_ insects _were aware of her –_ looking _at her. The bark scratched at her palms, stinging the soft skin residing there. Her brows furrowed together, one part curious and three parts anxious. Dreams weren't supposed to hurt; even phantom pains weren't really all that painful. So why was her palm throbbing? Why did the blood seem so real?_

 _She pressed on, clutching her hand to her chest and carefully avoiding the branches and roots littering the wet ground. The dirt squished between her naked toes, a gross squelch echoing with each step. She shuddered; mud was definitely_ not _something she enjoyed walking through barefoot. She peered down, thankful that she was at least wearing her nightshirt and shorts – the same outfit she'd fallen asleep in, oddly enough._

_In the distance, there was a low howl but it wasn't threatening. Truth be told, it was almost comforting; nothing like Lupin's wail the night he'd forgotten his potion during her third year. The knot in her stomach loosened considerably and there was a soft light flittered out from a gap between two trees ahead._

_They opened into a meadow with brilliant flowers that were overtly shining beneath the full moon. Hermione was positive they'd never learned about glowing flowers at Hogwarts and wondered if they even existed or if they were simply a creation her overactive subconscious had conjured._

_But what startled her more was the sword shoved deep into the ground, directly in the middle. She could feel a hum in blood, as though it was calling out to her and she was powerless to stop herself from inching closer. The hum grew stronger with every step, her knees trembling from the intensity. Collapsing, she crawled toward it and reached out the moment it was attainable. Her fingers brushed along the hilt…_

_…and to her horror, it burst into flames._

_She ripped her hand away, but the fire burned on. She watched the flames lick at the metal and scorch the grass, but no heat radiated out. The blaze only circled around the sword before dying out, leaving a perfect ring in its wake._

_"You are not worthy yet, child, but you will be," a ghostly voice whispered into her ear, chilly breath tickling her cheek._

_Her head whipped to the side, though there was only darkness creeping toward her, swallowing the trees. Her lips parted, a question on the tip of her tongue falling silent as the shadows engulfed her._

Hermione awoke with a jerk, sweat clinging to her brow and dampening her bangs. She blinked up at the ceiling, focusing on her breathing until the pounding of her heart regained some semblance of normalcy. Flashes of the haunting dream danced before her eyes, but it was fading as hurriedly as it'd come.

She could feel Bellatrix's arm thrown over her waist, her head resting comfortably on Hermione's shoulder and it tethered her back into reality. She had grumbled at the sudden movement, but remained asleep and Hermione thought it was adorable – though she'd _never_ tell Bellatrix that. She ran her fingers along Bellatrix's spine, grinning at the slight quivering of the dark witch's lips. Bellatrix wasn't an inherently heavy sleeper and she never stayed asleep long if Hermione was already awake.

 _"It's probably a bond thing,_ " Bellatrix had surmised with a shrug. It didn't bother her, despite her love for sleeping, and Hermione never gave it another thought.

Grunting sleepily, a single eye cracked open and the Death Eater shifted sluggishly against Hermione's body, her hold on Hermione's waist tightening. "What's wrong, love?"

"Nothing, baby," Hermione murmured, dragging her fingertips across the exposed flesh above the hem of Bellatrix's shorts. "I just had a weird dream."

Bellatrix hummed, rubbing her thumb along the Gryffindor's hipbone. "Want to talk about it?"

"I don't really remember what it was about," Hermione divulged with a faraway gleam in her eye, "All I know is that it was strange." Her brow furrowed in concentration, but she couldn't conjure up the dream. It was tucked away in the back of her subconscious just out of her grasp. The fuzziness surrounding her mind had receded, leaving only a hollow longing.

With a drowsy sigh, Bellatrix pressed a kiss to Hermione's collarbone. "Well, if you remember, we can talk about it," She yawned, "But I do believe it's still early so why don't we try and sleep a little longer?"

"Sounds good," Hermione answered with a yawn of her own, rolling onto her side – subsequently knocking Bellatrix off her shoulder and onto her own side - and wiggled closer.

Bellatrix huffed, though it held no real malice. "Excuse me, I was comfortable." She tucked Hermione's head into the space where her shoulder met her throat which only served to undermine her complaint, much to her exasperation. Hermione's arm was tossed over her side and fingers tangled in the soft material of her shirt. She was a feared Death Eater yet she could not deny her lover anything nor could she maintain any real disdain.

_What have you done to me, Hermione Riddle?_

"Too bad," Hermione said sleepily, the warmth of Bellatrix that engulfed her lulling her to sleep with each passing second.

Bellatrix laughed, smiling tenderly at her already sleeping girlfriend. "You're lucky I love you."

Her only response was a blissful sigh, followed by light snores.

-X-

The first week passed without dramatics – aside from Bellatrix's outburst – and Hermione had never been more appreciative in her life. An uneventful week was a godsend compared to her months spent in Hogwarts. She'd fought for mere scraps of peace – and now…

Now she was going to embrace it with open arms.

Draco wasn't enjoying it, though. He seemed more agitated than when they were classes. He was paling with each passing encounter and Hermione was worried for him. If he was _this_ stressed at the beginning, she couldn't imagine what he'd become by the end. He wouldn't tell her what was bothering him, so she would wait until he did.

"You cannot rely on just your dodging skills!" Lucius barked, glaring at his heir, "Use your defensive spells or your brains, but footwork will only get you so far! If you are surrounded, there is nowhere to run!"

Draco panted, his hands clutching the knees of his pants. Sweat dripped from his brow and into his eyes, chest heaving.

Hermione was leaning against a tree, silently surveying her friend's practice. She'd had her run against Dolohov, successfully volleying the rapid-fire spells back at the Death Eater. He was the only wizard her lover and Lucius trusted to train with her, besides Greyback though they didn't duel as often. He held back nothing – aside from the deadliest of curses – and did not worry the repercussions should he leave a bruise or two. The others would not try very hard – wouldn't _really_ train them - or, as Bellatrix feared, would take things too far. She had faith in Mulciber, despite his questionable morals, and the Carrows but she wasn't going to leave Hermione in the hands of anyone who wasn't a Death Eater "companion" of Hermione's.

And it said a lot about Dolohov – and Greyback – if she trusted her soulmate with them.

"Enough for the day," Lucius sighed, shaking his head. "You're done for now, but be prepared for tomorrow. Bellatrix will likely be harder on you than I was."

Draco huffed, rising uncomfortably from his bent position. Perspiration clung to his cheeks and there was coldness in his eyes that twisted at Hermione's stomach. He seemed far too stoic for a boy his age and it frightened her, though he was still her charming right hand whenever they were alone.

Hurried footsteps padded against the soft grass of their "training grounds" and they turned. Wormtail was rushing toward them, his usual meekness glaring in the harsh sun. His face was flush and his skittish gaze jumped between them. Dolohov glared at the rat man and he flinched pitifully.

"Master calls you lot to the sitting room, but not you, Dolohov." Antonin clapped Hermione's shoulder as he passed, sneering at Wormtail.

Hermione and the others nudged Wormtail aside and strolled into the manor, Hermione's arm locked with Draco's. Bellatrix was already with their Lord, lounging in the chair to his right. She had an odd look on her face, though it shifted at the sight of her lover.

"Darling," she greeted with a smile, glancing to the Dark Lord. He nodded with his typical tight-lipped smile that was incredibly intimidating, though Hermione was starting to appreciate the fact he attempted to smile more in her presence. It softened the apprehension within her whenever she was near him. He was her father - but he was still the Dark Lord.

Hopping from her seat, Bellatrix walked to Hermione's side and pressed a brief kiss to her awaiting lips. "How was your training?"

Hermione shrugged noncommittally and settled into her usual spot at Bellatrix's side. She rested her head against the Death Eater's shoulder, staring at her father warily. There was something bizarre falling over the room and everyone knew it, but no one addressed the elephant in the room. Whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good.

"My friends, join me." He waved his hands at the empty seats. Lucius and Draco sat on the couch while Bellatrix returned to her chair, dragging Hermione with her. The Gryffindor slid onto Bellatrix's lap and threaded her arms along her neck.

The Dark Lord paid little mind to the affectionate embrace, knowing that both his child and Bellatrix would give him their full attention despite their intimate position. He would not deny Hermione the comfort she sought. He would be unfair – as a father and a Lord – if he forced the soulmates apart. Keeping them happy and loyal was what mattered most and Hermione was his daughter - his heir – and he would do right by her if he could.

"Most of you in the room are aware of what need we need to discuss, but Hermione is not so I shall explain. Last Christmas I entrusted Draco with a task that is to be carried out this upcoming term. It is a daunting endeavor but I have the utmost faith in him but I do realize now that he cannot do what I require alone."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "What do you need of us, Father?"

He smiled at her willingness to stand with Draco, her brother in every sense but blood. "I have commanded young Draco to repair the Vanishing cabinet and its twin. One resides in Borgin and Burkes while the other, Hogwarts. Originally, it was simple: fix the cabinets and make it possible for my Death Eaters to arrive in one piece. Now? I request more from you _both_." He rose from his chair and paced in front of them. "Albus Dumbledore has become a bigger problem than before, which I am surprised is possible. He leads the Order and gains followers daily since news of my resurrection. While the creatures of the Wizarding World are joining our cause, it isn't enough. You must kill Dumbledore by any means necessary."

Hermione's heart stopped and she glanced at Draco. "K-kill him?"

The Dark Lord nodded firmly. "This is a war, Hermione. Lives are going to be lost and taken. It is better to start now than later. I care very little about _how_ you do it, but it must be done. I am to believe that Albus has relayed the prophecy to Potter and he cannot tell him anything more. Do this and you have earned your Marks."

Bellatrix's hand rubbed along Hermione's back, though it did nothing to ease her tension. She knew she wasn't angelic and inherently _good;_ she'd grayed considerably in the last few months and toed the line separating the two sides. She had done questionable things: tricking Harry, joining the Inquisitorial Squad, stealing the prophecy…

But she wasn't a killer. The mere _idea_ of blood staining her hands rolled her stomach and bile tickled the back of her throat. She couldn't take another's life; she wasn't ready. She wasn't sure she'd ever be ready. She couldn't do this.

Sharing a pained look with Draco, Hermione swallowed roughly. "Why us? He is one of the greatest wizards in the world and I can't imagine killing him being an easy endeavor. Even you haven't managed to kill him yet." It was not a criticism; she was merely stating a fact.

"It won't be," he conceded with a nod, "But I have faith that you can achieve what I have not." Sensing Hermione's impending panic, he said, "You and Draco may leave. I have matters to discuss with Lucius and Bellatrix and I can imagine you'll need to talk." He would not let her show weakness; weakness was something he could not tolerate. If he didn't see it, then it did not happen.

Draco rose and offered his arm to Hermione, who weakly followed his lead and permitted him to drag her from the room. She could feel Bellatrix's troubled gaze burning into the back of her head, but she continued on. Bellatrix had killed before; she wouldn't understand Hermione's horror over the notion of murdering someone – especially Albus Dumbledore. He may have made some rather dubious decisions, but…

Hermione's knees buckled once they were far enough away, breaths falling rapidly from her lips as her heart pounded agonizingly against her ribs and the edges of her mind grew fuzzy. Draco dropped beside her, tugging her close while he stared absently at the wall. He was petrified, thoughts racing as Hermione cuddled into his side. They were trying to offer the other comfort they didn't feel. This wasn't something they could conjure away - couldn't practice or avoid.

"What are we going to do?" Hermione whimpered, tears staining her flushed cheeks.

"What we have to," he replied mechanically, his blue eyes deadened under the weight of their daunting task. He wasn't sure how they'd survive this but they would.

They always do.

-X-

Curled up together on the sitting room couch, Hermione nuzzled Bellatrix's neck affectionately as the older woman read softly from a book she'd found tucked into the bookshelves of Malfoy Manor's extensive library.

_"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."_

Hermione hummed. "I had no idea F. Scott Fitzgerald was a wizard."

Chuckling quietly, Bellatrix pressed a kiss to the crown of Hermione's head. "He was. He was a terribly _troubled_ wizard from America – a mudblood - but a well-written one. Can't expect much from them, but a good book is a good book."

It'd been a few days since Hermione's new task was given and, in all honesty, she was trying desperately to force it into the back of her mind. She had no idea if she could carry out the deed and knew that this would be a defining moment; a choice between the light or the dark.

_Why must I choose? Nothing is black and white. Can there be no gray? No middle?_

Sighing as her thoughts trailed into dangerous territory, she wriggled until there was no space between her and Bellatrix. She needed the comfort only her twisted lover could provide, even if she could not share her trepidations.

"What's on your mind, love?" Bellatrix probed, nails scraping soothingly across Hermione's scalp as she cast the book aside. Hermione had been more subdued recently and it worried her. She'd never seen the young woman so withdrawn.

Hermione hummed evasively, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. How do you tell your deranged lover – who _had_ killed people, for _fun_ – that you didn't want to hurt anyone? Bellatrix hadn't felt guilty over murder and mayhem in decades; she wouldn't understand. She thrived on wicked deeds and nasty ideals.

"We should travel some; take a break," Hermione suggested instead, rubbing her hand across Bellatrix's flat stomach. She'd been thinking about her mother's home but she wanted desperately to see a few of the other properties. "We should ask Father if he'd be okay with you going to Mother's homes for a couple of weeks. I'd like to see them before school starts and August is such a busy month. Now is the best time. Maybe we could go to the flat in Paris. I'm sure it's lovely during the summer."

Bellatrix nodded with a faint smile. She'd go anywhere the Gryffindor asked. "That sounds wonderful, love."

Kissing Bellatrix's shoulder appreciatively, Hermione circled the older woman's bellybutton with her finger, grinning at her giggles and swatting hands. It was rare for Bellatrix to giggle, so Hermione made sure to appreciate every single one.

The morning bled into afternoon, time drifting along though they paid it no mind. Hours felt like minutes and dozing in Bellatrix's arms was an unsurpassable delight. Her smoky voice filled the silence, wrapping around the authors' words in a way no one else ever could. Hermione was certain her lover could make the most boring of topics sound interesting.

Narcissa flitted in and out of the room occasionally aww-ing the scene, only slight mocking in her coos. She had never seen Bellatrix so at ease – at least not since they were young children, playing in the gardens of their family's mansion. Before Bellatrix had left for school and before the war, she'd been a gentle person; she protected her and Andromeda fiercely and it was shocking the changes Bellatrix underwent through the years. She'd become machine – a monstrous, cold shell of the person she once was - and Azkaban had siphoned whatever was left of the child Bellatrix used to be.

It broke Narcissa's heart, but maybe Hermione was mending Bella's broken soul; could revive what had long since died.

During one of her appearances, Hermione relayed their plan with a tired smile. The bags under her eyes were pronounced and concerning, though she made no mention of them. Draco had identical ones and she knew it had everything to do with the Dark Lord's plan. She hoped that a vacation would help Hermione if only for a few days.

"That sounds like a good idea," Narcissa agreed. "You haven't had a break since your release from Azkaban, Bella."

"I know," Bellatrix shrugged. "There hasn't been a good time and there was so much to do."

Patting Hermione's knee, Narcissa gave her a sympathetic look. "You deserve a break too. You haven't had the chance to enjoy life in far too long. No teenager should be expected to go through what you have without some reprieve."

Bellatrix blinked slowly. With everything they'd gone through, it was entirely too easy to forget how _young_ Hermione was.

When she was Hermione's age, she was accustom to the seedy things her parents were involved in and what she would one day become, but Hermione wasn't raised the same. Maybe if she had, the tasks presented wouldn't bother her, but she was once a member of the Golden Trio and under the Order's thumb. The idea of such dark possibilities had never crossed the young woman's mind and _that_ was a cold jolt to Bellatrix's system.

The realization made her clutch Hermione a little tighter.

"What ever happened to Tonks?" Hermione wondered after a brief lull in conversation. "She wasn't here when we arrived." Her eyes widened. "Was she?"

Bellatrix chuckled; Hermione's horrified expression was rather comical and reminded her of a fish out of water. "No, love, she wasn't here. She left a few hours after she'd woken up. Cissy healed all of her wounds and we talked a bit before she returned to the Order. Well, I assume that's where she went. We had a brief chat before leaving her to rest. When we went back to check on her, she was gone."

"Oh," Hermione exhaled with relief, "So she's okay?"

"She's perfectly fine, darling. She may have a scar, but there are plenty of home remedies and potions to fix that. I'm sure St. Mungos has plenty of them."

"Thank Merlin." Guilt clawed at her insides; she hadn't thought to ask about her before now but, in her defense, she trusted Narcissa to care for her friend and figured Bellatrix would tell her if something had gone awry.

-X-

The Dark Lord found no issue with granting Bellatrix two weeks of travel. His most loyal always gave Him her all and he hadn't really any need of her in those few days so it wouldn't harm or alter any of his plans. So why deny such a simple request?

Packing the last of her things, Hermione peeked over her shoulder at Bellatrix. The older witch was glaring at the bag before her. Their first stop was the flat in Paris and Hermione was determined to explore muggle Paris – despite Bellatrix's protests - meaning Bellatrix was going to have to buy _muggle_ clothes.

The mere thought of it made her skin crawl.

"Are you sure…"

Hermione laughed, strolling over to the wardrobe and encircling Bellatrix's waist, leaning her cheek against the Death Eater's shoulder. "Yes, baby. You can't go around muggle Paris in corsets and robes. It'll draw too much attention."

"Why do we have to go mingle with the muggles?" she whined, crossing her arms petulantly. "I'm sure there are more than enough things to see in the wizarding parts of France."

"Because I've never really gotten to _see_ France before, Bella. I know you hate muggles but I don't. I was raised by them for Merlin's sake and I want to explore _all_ of Paris, not just the parts you deem acceptable. Does it really matter that you may have to deal with muggles?" Her ire was palpable, tone clipped as she clenched her eyes shut. She loved Bellatrix, but must she make this one thing so difficult? "And it's rather hard for a known Death Eater to been seen in Paris' wizarding areas. Your old warrants may have disappeared, but that wouldn't stop others from turning you back in – considering your new crimes. I'm not sure how those disappeared and I don't want to, but there's bound to be fresh ones in place."

Bellatrix swallowed harshly, twisting in Hermione's arms and pressing a contrite kiss to her lover's lips. Hermione was right. She wouldn't apologize for who she was or for her feelings toward muggles and mudbloods, but it was common knowledge that Hermione did not hold the same views. She often treaded lightly around their occasional conversations about the cretins, but avoiding them all together was the best course of action. She knew Hermione wanted to see the world and she shouldn't have complained. If Hermione wanted to see _all_ of Paris, Bellatrix would suck it up.

Besides, some of the most famous buildings and monuments had magical background. Even if she couldn't be seen, that wouldn't stop her from appreciating the wonders witches and wizards had created.

"How long will we be in Paris?" Bellatrix asked, hands falling to Hermione's waist. Hermione's stiff posture drained away and the young Gryffindor leaned against Bellatrix.

"Maybe three or four days," Hermione mused. "I want to see the beach house in Turkey afterward - maybe spend the night there - before checking out Ireland for a couple of days. Then I thought we could spend the rest of our time at the manor in Rannoch Moor. I want to sort through Mother's things; learn about her and our family history."

"Sounds good to me, love." Bellatrix kissed Hermione languidly, coaxing away the last of Hermione's frustration. She slipped her tongue through willing lips and licked along the back of Hermione's teeth. Hermione moaned softly, cupping the back of Bellatrix's neck and tilting her head for a better angle.

"I'm excited to get away for a few days," Hermione admitted, words mingling with pecks and gentle bites. "We need to finish packing."

Bellatrix smirked, trapping Hermione's bottom lip and suckling on it teasingly. "Let me use magic and we won't have to worry about it." She trailed her fingertips over soft skin, nails dragging across Hermione's ribcage and leaving tiny red lines in their wake.

"But…" Hermione's breath hitched, a low moan rumbling in her chest when persistent digits slid under her bra and skimmed over pert nipples. "Fine, but things better be packed before morning."

"Of course, love."

It wasn't.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their vacation begins and Tonks and Ginny have a talk.

The flat in Paris was stunning. It was open and airy with full length windows in the living room, leaving them with a spectacular view of the Eiffel Tower. The flat was nestled in a fairly muggle neighborhood though the entire building was littered with witches and wizards. They'd cloaked the structure, bewitching muggles that ventured too close. To them, it appeared to be a rundown, condemned complex on the verge of collapsing and whenever a non-magical creature approached, they'd become disoriented and forget why they'd come.

It was a bloody brilliant idea.

The flat was at the very top of the building, notably larger than the others but homey. It hadn't been touched aside from the white sheets draped over the furniture and the fridge cleared of all perishable foods. There was a floo and Hermione was pretty sure that it was connected to Cooper Manor, which would explain _why_ there were coverings and no groceries. The living room and kitchen were connected with two bedrooms down a short hall, pictures lining the walls.

Hermione tossed the sheet off the couch and set her bag onto it. She strolled over to the glass and peered out, taking in the sights and muffled sounds of Paris. Strong arms encircled her waist and Hermione leaned back, covering Bellatrix's hands with her own.

"It's gorgeous," Bellatrix murmured, resting her chin on Hermione's shoulder.

"We need to get you some clothes so we can explore. I packed the outfit you wore to meet the Grangers so you can blend in while we buy some _actual_ clothes."

The soft morning sun beamed through the window, illuminating their faces and warming Hermione's pale cheeks. She watched as the people below milled about, brief cases and lattes clutched in determined grasps. They were full of tension, dreading starting their workdays and Hermione couldn't help but be appreciative that she had a moment to just…

Exist.

Bellatrix hummed yet made no attempt to argue. She swayed slightly, coaxing her lover to do the same. Shades of yellow engulfed them as they swayed, a melody lost in time falling from Bellatrix's lips. It was a tune her father's house elf used to hum when she was caring for her and her sisters. It was soothing; she could only hope that someday she'd be able to pass on.

"That's beautiful," Hermione whispered, reluctantly breaking the tender spell that had fallen upon them.

"My father's elf would sing it to calm me down when I was young. Our parents wanted nothing to do with us until we were of an age where we could talk and feed ourselves, so they handed us off to the elves. She was very motherly. Even after our parents took interest in us, she'd still heal our bruises and help fix my messy curls. She was an elf and was treated as such, but she was special." Bellatrix shrugged. "I don't really know what happened to her. She was gone when I returned home from my first year at Hogwarts and I knew better than to ask."

Hermione interlocked her fingers with Bellatrix's. "Do you miss her?"

"Witches and wizards aren't supposed to _miss_ a lowly creature like an elf…" Bellatrix hesitated, "…but I do think of her on occasion."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Hermione assured her, but her lover simply kissed her cheek.

"Enough talk of the past. I do believe you said something about shopping and we should go. We only have a few days here and I'd love to explore Paris with you." She tugged Hermione around to face her and brushed a rebellious lock from her face. "This is the city of love after all."

Leaning up, Hermione connected their lips briefly, contently basking in the adorable cheesiness of her girlfriend. _You're such a sap._

_You love it,_ Bellatrix replied cheekily, smirking as she pulled away.

"I love _you_ ," Hermione corrected, pecking the corner of Bellatrix's mouth before slipping away and toward their discarded bags.

"Now who's the sap?"

Winking, Hermione bit her lip. "Hmm," she tilted her head playfully. "Still you." She opened her bag and started sifting through it, ignoring Bellatrix's scowl.

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed on Hermione's bent form, a wicked thought crossing her mind. _If we can share thoughts, I wonder…_

With a thoughtful expression, Bellatrix focused intensely on the Gryffindor's clothed arse. She could feel the magic rising within, crackling at the very tips of her fingers. Her tongue traced along her teeth and she willed the devilish idea into existence. The startled yelp she received was easily the most satisfying noise she'd ever heard – outside of a battle, mind you.

Hermione's hand flew to her arse and her spine straightened, head whipping about to stare at her lover. It was a good thing Hermione did not carry the ability to unhinge her jaw or it probably would have touched the floor. She couldn't understand how in Merlin's name Bellatrix had managed a pinch on her arse without being near her.

"What the hell, Bella?" Hermione demanded, rubbing the abused flesh irritably.

Bellatrix grinned triumphantly, inching away from her irate girlfriend. "I figured that, if I could read your thoughts, maybe I could conjure something physical as well. And," her lips curled into a smirk, "I was right."

"You're telling me that you focused on my arse and pinched it? The _first_ time I feel you without touch and it had to be a _pinch_? On my butt?" Hermione exclaimed, her voice a pitch higher than usual. "Really, Bella?"

Throwing a devious wink in Hermione's direction, Bellatrix bolted from the room and down the hall, Hermione hot on her heels. She hesitated at the end of the bed and it was a clear error in judgment, leaving the younger girl ample time to catch her around the waist and tackle her onto the comforter. She straddled Bellatrix's thighs, using her weight as leverage while nimble fingers danced over the woman's corset. It was easy to pinpoint Bellatrix's more ticklish spots and Hermione exploited them cheerfully, ignoring Bellatrix's begging.

Bellatrix bucked slightly when Hermione brushed a particularly sensitive area, tears trickling from the corners of her eyes. "I give! I give! Stop!"

"What's the magic word?" Hermione hummed, tensing her muscles so she wouldn't topple.

"Please?"

"Nope," Hermione popped the 'p' mischievously, continuing her ministrations. She could see the beads of sweat gathering at the base of Bellatrix's neck and it only spurred her on.

Squirming, Bellatrix desperately tried to think of some special word. "Unicorn?"

Laughing freely, the Gryffindor shook her head. "Wrong again."

"I love you?" Bellatrix whimpered, praying for reprieve. Her sides were beginning to ache and she was wheezing, heart thrumming harshly in her chest.

Hermione paused, resting her hands on Bellatrix's hips and stroked them affectionately. She waited until Bellatrix's heaving calmed and her breathing evened out before pressing a kiss to the small of her lover's back. "I love you too."

She lifted slightly, allowing Bellatrix to roll onto her back before settling on her hips. She absently caressed the skin above the former Slytherin's heart. She leaned forward and kissed Bellatrix soundly, basking in the tranquility. There was no sexual energy, merely an exchange of love and happiness. She cherished their passionate embraces but there was something breathtaking about their tender moments.

"You're so beautiful," Bellatrix murmured in awe, her hand cupping Hermione's cheek when they parted. She was studying her adoringly as though she'd never seen her before, despite having memorized every inch of the girl's face.

Hermione blushed prettily, swatting away the hand and shifting off the bed. "Come on. Let's explore."

-X-

The Burrow was usually a flurry of activity. Order members came and went so frequently that Ginny was never certain who was there at any given moment. Some had rooms throughout the house, but most only stayed for a short time before disappearing into the night.

After the battle at the Ministry, Dumbledore and Moody thought it best to change the Order headquarters. They weren't sure if Bellatrix remembered Grimmauld Place and if it was a secure place to congregate and plan. Ginny was positive the Death Eater wouldn't attack, but she couldn't tell them that. There was no way to explain _how_ she knew without giving away Hermione's secret and she wouldn't betray Hermione's confidence.

Ginny trusted Hermione's judgment and if she had faith in the woman, then she would keep her skepticism to a minimum. Hermione wouldn't trust someone if she believed they were dishonest; she was a good judge of character and disloyalty wasn't something she'd stand for.

The house was rather quiet for once, the morning sun shining through their spotless windows. Molly had cleaned them three times that week alone and scrubbed the floor twice. She was a whirlwind of anxiety; she was scared for her children and Harry, concerned about Hermione joining them for a week, despite Dumbledore's insistence that Hermione was no traitor, and was entirely too stressed. She couldn't sit still and it drove Ginny mad.

Creeping down the stairs, Ginny peeked into the kitchen and her heart stuttered.

Tonks was sitting at the table, a cup of tea in her hand as she absently thumbed through the Daily Prophet. She'd been strange since the battle; subdued and quiet, something she'd never associated with the energetic witch before. No one knew where she'd disappeared to after the fight and she never told, tight-lipped and cool whenever anyone asked.

Ginny had a vague idea of what happened, considering everything Hermione had told her, but she still worried about the older girl. Seeing Tonks so despondent and almost _numb_ was something she'd never seen before. What she'd give just to live in Tonks' brain for a day.

"Morning, Tonks," Ginny greeted calmly, ignoring the churning of her insides.

Tonks jerked slightly in surprise, but her dark expression drained away and she smiled warmly. "Wotcher, Ginny. I didn't realize anyone was here. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Not at all. I didn't even know you were here until I came into the kitchen." Meandering about the room, Ginny snagged a piece of toast off the counter and nibbled on the edges. "Where is everyone?"

Shrugging, Tonks tossed the paper onto the wooden surface and leaned back in her chair. "I haven't the foggiest. Nobody was here when I got in this morning, but Molly said I was welcome anytime so I figured she wouldn't be too upset if I had a cup of tea and some breakfast."

Ginny hummed as the conversation lulled off, though her gaze never wavered from Tonks. She was taking in the girl's disheveled appearance; her robes were covered in ashes and her usual pink locks were nowhere in sight, replaced by a deep midnight blue.

"Are you okay?" Ginny inquired hesitantly, finishing off her toast before pouring her own cup of tea.

Tonks shrugged again, a noncommittal snort from her nose the only response offered.

"You know you can talk to me, right? I may be young, but I understand a lot of things that others don't. I mean," Ginny settled into the closest chair, careful not to spill her scalding tea, "Voldemort did bewitch _and_ nearly succeed in killing me my first year at Hogwarts. That's the kind of thing that makes a person grow up quickly."

Tonks balked.

The young Gryffindor never talked about the incident; none of the Weasley family did, really. She absently wondered if Ginny ever really talked to _anyone_ about it and she felt guilty for shutting her out. Ginny was an incredible person and so easy going; she was precious and kind, acting as though nothing in the world could touch her, regardless of what she'd faced in the last few years – and she would understand more than any _real_ Order member. She was a lot like Tonks when she was that age, aside from surviving a near-death experience - and it only stoked the blaze of shame about her attraction to Ginny. How could she feel _something_ toward someone so young?

Tonks sighed deeply and gripped the cup, her knuckles whitening. "My aunt Bella saved my life and I don't know how to deal with it."

Ginny's head tilted inquisitively but stayed silent. It was evident Tonks had been aching to talk about it with someone, but how could she talk about it with _Order_ members? They'd never let her finish; they were well-versed at ignoring the root of the issue and ranting until people threw their hands up and said screw it.

"I'm not really sure what happened. After Rodolphus cursed me, everything's a blank until I woke up with my aunt standing over me, a tray full of potions on the table and some pumpkin juice in a cup. She told me I almost died, but that's honestly not the problem." She laughed humorlessly, glaring down at her cup of cooling tea. "My aunt Bellatrix was in the room when I woke up. I thought she was going to torture me or worse but…" she trailed off, lost in the whirlwind that was her mind.

"But?" Ginny prompted kindly.

"She told me that blood is blood no matter how "muddied" it is. She doesn't hate my mum – not really. She hates my dad because he's muggle born but family is family." Tonks' eyes were filled with tears. "I don't know what to think, Ginny. All my life I've grown up knowing my aunts hated my parents and that they'd probably kill me if they had the chance, but that's not true. I have a lifetime of notions that _aren't real_! They don't hate me; my god, Bellatrix _saved_ me. I know what she's done and yet, a part of me still feels connected to her and Aunt Narcissa. How fucked up is that?"

She covered her face and cried, finally releasing all of her pent up frustrations. She'd tried so hard not to break but she couldn't bring herself to be embarrassed. It felt good letting it out.

Ginny stood and rounded the table, embracing Tonks who buried her face in Ginny's stomach as she sobbed. Her body trembled beneath the intensity of her anguish, but Ginny said nothing, only stroking the other girl's hair.

She didn't know what to say. She knew what she _wanted_ to say, but it wasn't her place. She could only hope that Hermione was right – that _she_ was right – and that Bellatrix Black might not be the monster she seemed.

Only time would tell.

-X-

Hermione's head tilted, her cheek pressed against the back of her hand as she stared adoringly at her lover.

It'd taken nearly an hour to find muggle clothes that Bellatrix would tolerate, but the tight material clinging to her torso made it worth every biting comment and scathing glare. She'd insisted on Slytherin colors (which Hermione was _not_ going to complain about, because _damn_ ) so here she was, sitting across from Hermione at the little café they'd found, tugging at her emerald, skin-tight top while mumbling under her breath about muggles.

Thanking the waitress as she deposited their sandwiches and coffee on the table, Hermione smirked over the rim of her cup at Bellatrix. "You know, muttering like that makes you look crazy."

Bellatrix's brow arched, a slightly maniacal smile playing at her lips. "I _am_ crazy, love."

"Oh…" Hermione scrunched her nose, "Well, it makes you look crazier."

"I didn't know that was possible," Bellatrix quipped absently, sighing as she released the hem of her new shirt.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione bit into her sandwich. There was a comfortable silence hanging over them, each lost in their thoughts as Hermione took in the sights of Paris. The café wasn't exceptionally busy and everyone seemed rather content in their own conversations. It was pleasant - having no one there to scrutinize her actions and choices.

She was free to simply _exist_.

It did strike her as odd that there were no questioning glances, despite the fact she was in the company of an older woman who clearly wasn't her mother. Granted, there were only a few months before her seventeenth birthday so maybe it wasn't entirely obvious that she was standing on the cusp of a minor and an adult. It was so peculiar to think that she could technically be married in her sixth year and no one would be able to stop her.

_Well, I hope not. I've never exactly asked about gay marriages in the Wizarding World and I'm certain no one's ever mentioned them._ Hermione's brows furrowed, staring intently at her half-eaten sandwich.

"Are you all right, love?" Bellatrix tilted her head. "You're looking at that sandwich like it's insulted your ancestors."

Hermione laughed, her thoughts drifting into the back of her mind as she returned to the present. "I'm fine, baby. I was just thinking."

Bellatrix hummed. "Ah. Well, is it something I can help with?"

"Not right now. We'll talk about it later." Hermione smiled, silently assuring her lover that everything was fine. _It's a long conversation; too long for this and it isn't exactly something I can ask about with so many muggles within earshot._

Nodding understandingly, Bellatrix sipped her cooling coffee and winced. She wasn't a fan of coffee, but it was a specialty brew the café had created and, while she'd never buy it again, it wasn't horrid. But cold coffee was absolutely disgusting.

She set the cup on the table and tapped it with her finger, smiling as steam blossomed upward. Taking another drink, she sighed in satisfaction. Wandless magic was such a handy ability; its possibilities were endless and it was nice not having to whip her wand out for everything. Before her bonding with Hermione, it was a bit difficult. She was a brilliant witch but wandless magic was difficult for even the greatest wizards, but her magic had amplified too since her union with Hermione.

"So, what would you like to do next?" Bellatrix inquired, swallowing the last of her coffee.

Polishing off the last of her sandwich, Hermione sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "Well, I've heard the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower is spectacular."

"Then to the tower we shall go."

Hermione tossed her napkin playfully at Bellatrix. "You're such a dork."

"Only for you," Bellatrix snickered, rising from her chair and tossing an ample amount of euros. It more than covered their bill, but she wasn't concerned with money.

Hermione stood, her hand finding Bellatrix's absently as she led them out of the café and onto the busy sidewalk. A part of her wondered if she could get away with slipping her hand into the back pocket of Bellatrix's insanely tight jeans, but cast the thought aside. Bellatrix wouldn't mind – at all – but that move was bolder than she was ready for.

Instead, she was content to simply entwine their fingers and bring their hands up to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of Bellatrix's.

_I love you._

-X-

The view from the Eiffel Tower was exquisite; seeing the city beneath them was breathtaking and Hermione could have stayed there for hours. Bellatrix wasn't as impressed, but she would have stayed at the top for the rest of her life if Hermione asked her to. Seeing Hermione so enraptured filled her stomach with overwhelming warmth. Her lover had been so down the last few weeks and to see her _live_ again…

If listening to their rather boring guide made Hermione's light burn brighter, then she'd sit through his babblings a million times if she needed to.

For the rest of their afternoon, they meandered about the little shops and the streets of Paris, taking in everything the city had to offer. Hermione wanted to explore the Louvre Museum at some point, but Bellatrix suggested they wait until tomorrow. If she wanted to experience it thoroughly, it was better to go when it first opened versus the middle of the day.

As night fell, the couple found themselves in another restaurant, sitting on the patio as they enjoyed the lights of the city. All day, Bellatrix had spoken in fluent French when it was needed and Hermione wasn't about to lie – it was _hot._ She hadn't realized her lover spoken French and hearing her say even the most mundane of things was sexier than she'd ever imagined. She'd ordered their dinner, winking when Hermione asked what Bellatrix had ordered in lieu of answering.

But whatever Bellatrix had picked was wonderful and she decided from that moment on to let Bellatrix choose their meals. She trusted the older woman to select only the best; she was a Black after all.

Flopping onto the bed, Hermione stared up at the ceiling. She was pleasantly full and just _happy_. She'd spent a day in the City of Love with her soulmate, stood atop the Eiffel Tower, and strolled through the streets of Paris after their dinner. What more could a young witch ask for?

"What're you thinking about?" Bellatrix wondered, lying beside her lover though she gazed upon Hermione instead of the ceiling, mentally caressing every slope and curve of Hermione's face.

"You. Us. This. I'm simply embracing the serenity and calmness this place offers. It's nice to be away from all of the expectations and responsibilities."

Humming, Bellatrix leaned up on her elbow and brushed the knuckles of her free hand along Hermione's cheek. "It is. I can't remember the last time I've taken any sort of vacation. Being a Death Eater doesn't allow much alone time."

Hermione rolled onto her side and stared adoringly at Bellatrix.

The difference between Bellatrix her _lover_ and Bellatrix the _Death Eater_ was incredibly distinct; whereas Bellatrix the Death Eater was ruthless and maniacal, her laugh instilling terror into the hearts of those who heard it, Bellatrix her lover was gentle. She still held an aura of confidence but she wasn't cruel with Hermione; she simply shielded Hermione from the darkness swirling in her tattered soul. Part of her appreciated the gesture, but the other part hated that Bellatrix was forced to keep her true self locked away.

She hadn't lied when she said she wanted to see the best and the worst sides of Bellatrix. She loved Bellatrix – loved her passion, her tenderness – but she wanted to really _know_ her lover's twisted side; wanted to peer into the void, trace her fingers along her jagged edges and dance among her warped thoughts.

She _needed_ to.

"Why won't you let me see the real you?" Hermione blurted. Her eyes widened considerably and she scolded herself for broaching the subject so tactlessly.

Bellatrix blinked, bewildered by the accusation? Was it an accusation? She didn't know. "What?"

Swallowing compulsively, Hermione smiled ruefully. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I just…" she glanced away, "You only show me the good parts of you. I've only really seen you as Bella the Death Eater a couple times. Even at the Ministry you weren't really _you_. I want to see the real you. I have no illusions about who you are or what you've done. I know you've killed and that you _liked_ it. I know you thrive on chaos and that you plunge headfirst into madness without a second thought, so why are you trying to hide yourself from me? I want it _all_." She stared imploringly at Bellatrix.

Silence fell upon the room as Bellatrix gaped wordlessly at Hermione. She hadn't done it intentionally - well, not anymore. At the beginning, she did make an effort not to reveal her wicked temperament. She had been so terrified of running her young lover away that toning down the darker parts of herself seemed like the most logical choice. Because, what if Hermione hadn't liked what she saw? What if she was disgusted by the person Bellatrix was and decided the idea of loving her was too much?

Once they'd grown closer, Bellatrix worried less about it. She was still wary, but Hermione wasn't oblivious to what she'd done and would likely do in the future. Death Eaters were the most notorious wizards of all for a reason and Hermione had still fallen in love with her in spite of it all. But it was so ingrained in her to hide those pieces that, even after months, she still held back.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, "I shouldn't have –"

Bellatrix pressed her finger to Hermione's mouth. "No, you're right," she admitted forlornly, "When we first met, I was petrified that I would scare you away. I thought if I hid why I am seen as his most loyal then maybe you'd stay and listen. I guess it became second nature after awhile and I never realized it."

Hermione cupped Bellatrix's cheek, her thumb rubbing the soft skin residing there. "Will you let me in now? I'm not going to run."

Exhaling deeply, the corner of Bellatrix's mouth quirked up and she rested her hand atop Hermione's. "I will try. I cannot promise I won't slip up, but I shall try."

"That's all I ask." Hermione surged forward and pressed her lips to Bellatrix's.

Hermione's question about marriages in the Wizarding World still weighed heavy on her mind, but she cast it aside for another time. Their conversation had already become far too serious and all Hermione wanted to do was dissolve the tension that enveloped them.

There would be plenty of time later to ask.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cute Bellamione and some Kathryn insight.

Hermione lounged beneath the warming sun, the scratch of sand on her back and the birds squawking overhead. Lowering her glasses, she stared up at the crystal blue and watched them blissfully flit about. Down the way, she could just make out the sounds of merry children and the summer crowds, though they never ventured near the beach house or the parts of the beach her mother owned. She assumed Kathryn must have warded her property to keep away nosy muggles.

Their stop in Paris had been magnificent. She'd seen the museum on their second day, scouring the building from front to back. Bellatrix had astoundingly not complained; in fact, she'd piped in with little facts about the history and artifacts that muggles would never know. She wasn't shocked Napoleon was a wizard nor was she surprised that he'd been banned from the Wizarding World.

A man attempting to conquer the world was apparently a very common occurrence.

They'd left Wednesday evening after arranging their muggle clothes in the dressers and closet in the bedroom. Hermione had bought a plethora of outfits, having already planned to leave different ones at different houses so they wouldn't have to go shopping the next time they explored Paris or went swimming in the Dead Sea.

Leaning up on her elbows, Hermione drank in the sight of her lover shamelessly. Bellatrix was strolling along the shoreline, stooping down occasionally to pick up shells she deemed worthy of her attention (finding out Bellatrix was a nerd about shells had made her _freaking_ day). She was clad in the skimpiest bikini Hermione had ever gazed upon – yes, it was obviously black because Bellatrix refused to integrate more color into her wardrobe – and Hermione had never been more thankful for the creation of bikinis.

Every time Bellatrix bent over, she was certain angels wept with joy; she definitely did.

"If you stare any harder, you'll burn a hole in my bikini," Bellatrix smirked, her eyes never straying from the shell in her hand.

"I hope so," Hermione muttered, licking her lips lustfully.

With a wicked smirk, she focused all of her attention on Bellatrix. She hadn't repaid Bellatrix for her pinch - not really – and when such a perfect opportunity presented itself, who was she to ignore it? Biting her lip, her brow furrowed with concentration and, after a moment of intense staring, was rewarded with a gratifying squeak of indignation. Much like Hermione had, she quickly straightened and her hand flew to her arse, eyes aflame when they landed on her giggling lover.

"What?" Hermione inquired, mock innocence dripped from the single word.

Bellatrix stalked toward her dangerously, her hips swaying a little more than necessary and successfully stealing Hermione's attention. It wasn't her fault though! Her lover was _hot_ and she knew it.

Stopping in front of her, Bellatrix cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms. She tried to look annoyed, but the laughter twinkling in her eyes was evident. It was the first time Hermione had flexed her newfound ability and it was amusing that she'd chosen to copy Bellatrix's little test.

"What do you think you're doing?" Bellatrix tried to be firm, but her traitorous lips quirked up.

Hermione smirked up her girlfriend. "Payback is a bitch, darling."

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed and she dropped onto her knees, crawling on all fours until she was face to face with a flushed Hermione. Pressing her mouth to Hermione's ear, she purred, "I'm not saying I didn't _like_ it." Pressing a kiss just below it, she took great pleasure in the shuddering of Hermione's body.

While the Gryffindor was thoroughly entranced, Bellatrix sprung up onto her feet and took a few steps backward.

"Hey!" Hermione whined, pouting petulantly at the older woman.

"If you want me, you're going to have to catch me, _darling_." Watching the challenge settle over Hermione, she slowly eased back.

The moment Hermione's muscles tensed, Bellatrix dashed away, trying to keep some distance between them despite the fact she wasn't skilled at running in the sand. She nearly slipped, but when she heard Hermione approaching, she spun around and braced herself. Her arms encircled Hermione's waist, stopping her from toppling them over and she kissed her deeply, tongue teasing the seam of her lips.

Moaning, Hermione melted into the embrace. Her hands gripped Bellatrix's shoulders, nails biting into the exposed flesh. Her tongue tangled with her lover's and she gave in entirely, boneless in her lover's embrace. The kiss was toe-curling; desire painted kiss swollen lips and their groans became a symphony only they could perform.

Bellatrix's teeth ensnarled Hermione's bottom lip, tugging on it before soothing the sting with her tongue. She could feel how Hermione had turned to clay in her hands and she was going to use it to her advantage. Separating their lips with a quiet pop, Bellatrix smiled at her dazed Gryffindor.

"You know something?" Bellatrix whispered huskily.

Hermione hummed inquisitively, still trapped in her wanton haze.

Bellatrix kissed along Hermione's jaw, nipping at her pulse point. "You really shouldn't let your guard down."

Forehead scrunched in confusion, she didn't have time to question Bellatrix's peculiar statement before she was found herself tossed over her lover's shoulder. Mouth agape, a noise of displeasure escaped her throat and she beat on Bellatrix's back.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded.

Bellatrix whistled cheerfully, ignoring the pounding against her spine and the wiggle of her girlfriend's hips. She meandered along the sand toward the sea purposefully, carefully avoiding any shells that might have small creatures living inside of them. The damp beach squished between her toes as she came closer, a cool reprieve from the sun-kissed sand she'd tried racing through.

She walked into the water, making her way out until it was halfway between her chest and her bellybutton – the perfect height. Hermione was still shrieking exasperatedly, but Bellatrix was unfazed by it; she knew Hermione didn't mean a single word of it. She adjusted herself slightly before releasing her hold on Hermione, a rowdy laugh erupting from her chest as Hermione accidentally jerked and rolled off her shoulder…

…and into the sea.

The force of her laughter had Bellatrix bent over, clutching her sides and trying to keep herself upright. Hermione came up sputtering, trying valiantly to wipe the water from her eyes with one hand while slapping blindly at Bellatrix with the other, sending her into another fit of laughter. Cracking open an eye, Hermione lunged at her girlfriend.

"I'm going to kill you, Bellatrix Black!"

The sea swallowed up Bellatrix's chuckles as she fell over and into the water, dragging Hermione with her.

Merlin she loved this.

-X-

The house in Ireland wasn't spectacular.

Hermione had hoped – considering her mother's taste for glorious homes – the Ireland properties would follow but alas, her optimism was dashed against the rocks. It wasn't bad; merely _eh_. She wouldn't visit often unless the urge to explore Ireland more arose. She'd initially wanted to stay a few days, but decided against it, choosing to only stay a night.

Apparating into the Cooper Manor, it caught her off guard the enormity of her family's house. Considering she'd only come once, Hermione had forgotten how magnificent it truly was. Drog greeted her the moment she arrived, beaming at her in a way that reminded her vaguely of Dobby. He was a fair amount older than Dobby – having served the House of Cooper for many years – but he was spry and lively.

"Does Mistress need anything?" he inquired, studying the girl as she gazed upon the portraits lining the walls just as before.

"Lunch would be lovely," Hermione smiled.

"Of course." Drog nodded determinedly and disappeared, presumably toward the kitchen.

Silently, Hermione slipped deeper in her home, Bellatrix following dutifully with the bags floating behind her. They climbed the stairs, stopping when they reached the top floor. Hermione paused, chewing her lip thoughtfully. She couldn't imagine staying in the room that was once her mother's. It deserved to be preserved – at least until she could bring herself to sort through her belongings.

"I can't stay in Mother's room," Hermione admitted softly, leaning into Bellatrix's hand when it touched the small of her back.

"Then we shall pick another," Bellatrix replied simply, kissing Hermione's cheek. "We will make it our own."

Nodding appreciatively, Hermione peered about.

There were doors upon doors on the top floor; they were all relatively roomy so size wasn't an issue but with so many options, it was hard to decide. Her childhood room – however briefly she occupied it – was directly next to her mother's so she steered clear of it entirely. She couldn't bear to look at the door; her stomach rolled every time she peeked at it.

Instead, they chose the room closest to the stairs.

With walls painted gray and royal blue bed, it was lovely. There were two dressers with drawers at the bottom, leaving plenty of clothes space. A desk was pushed against the wall near the door but unlike her mother's cluttered study, there were no papers or random books.

Unpacking their bags, Hermione found herself lost in thought. She felt out of place in the manor; it was bizarre actually _owning_ a home versus living in another's. This was hers, but it didn't feel like it should be. She hadn't grown up there but she wished so desperately that she had had the chance. It was so familiar yet so strange.

Her heart clenched painfully as she considered what could have been. She dreamed of her mother holding her, telling her all about her family's history while reminding her of how loved her was. She ached for those motherly kisses that were stolen by Dumbledore. He may have had no control over the aurors, but something whispered darkly into her ear that he orchestrated it somehow. Why else did she end up in the care of muggles? If he had nothing to do with it, how did the Ministry have _zero_ knowledge of who she really was?

Albus Dumbledore's hands weren't clean – that much she was certain of.

She jumped when arms encircled her waist and Bellatrix's chin rested on her shoulder. "What's wrong, love?"

"I keep thinking about all of this. My entire life was a lie and knowing what could have been makes my blood boil and my chest hurt. He stole everything from me," Hermione sneered, rage bubbling in her chest. "She wasn't a monster! Dumbledore should have never taken me from her! Father was dead, so why did it matter who raised me? I lost a mother I'll never remember." Her knees buckled and the lovers dropped to the ground, Bellatrix's embrace never faltering. "I'll never know her…"

Her anger slipped into brokenness, gut-wrenching sobs wracking through her. She hated herself for crying so much, but tears kept flowing. She'd already grieved for the world she'd lost, but every time she thought of her family – her mother – she'd weep. She hated Dumbledore – hated what he'd done to her – and she swore that it would _never_ happen again.

"He will get what he deserves. I promise you," Bellatrix murmured, venom coating her tongue much like the dangerous viper she was. If she somehow managed to get her hands on him, she would rip out Dumbledore's beating heart and give it to Hermione as a present before this war was over.

They stayed on the floor long after Hermione's tears ended. Eyes red-rimmed and throat dry, Hermione stared blankly at the wall. With loathing in her veins, all she wanted was Dumbledore dead – and what scared her most was that _she_ wanted to be the one to kill him.

_What is happening to me?_

-X-

After lunch, Hermione slipped into Kathryn's study, surveying the room curiously. She'd left Bellatrix in the library, smiling fondly as the older woman poured over the extensive collections. She hardly paid her lover any attention when Hermione kissed her cheek and told her she was going to the study.

A grunt of acknowledgment and a faint smile was her only reply.

Papers were still scattered about the top of the desk, quills and an ink well next to them. There were a couple of potions books stacked on the floor beside it along with the occasional dark arts books sandwiched between them.

What caught her attention was the journal on the corner of the desk. It was leather bound, her family's crest pressed into the front and her mother's name written elegantly beneath it. It seemed entirely out of place, mingling with all that clutter. Like a beacon in the darkest of nights, the journal drew her in and, before she realized it, she was standing before the desk.

Settling into the chair, she carefully took hold of the journal and flipped it open to a random page.

**_March 17th, 1975: The world is in complete madness. Innocent people are being forced to do terrible things – unspeakable things - and Father is buying into this insanity, standing firmly behind the Dark Lord. I don't know how to feel about this. This man might destroy us all._ **

Hermione's brows furrowed curiously and she thumbed the pages, delving deeper into the scribbles.

**_December 12th, 1976: This war will tear us all apart; the Death Eaters have been attacking the Order, muggles – anyone they can get their hands on. I fear for the world, but I believe His has promise. I met Him tonight. He's terrifying and Father was furious yet… He isn't what I expected. His plans and ideals will shape a new world – a better world._ **

Hermione continued toward the back of it, stopping a few pages before the final entry. Later she'd really sit down and examine each entry thoroughly but she was merely skimming through it for now.

**_February 7th, 1979: I'm pregnant…with the Dark Lord's child. I can't believe it; it seems like a dream but also a nightmare. I already love this baby so much, but how can I bring them into this world when it's in absolute chaos? I haven't told Him yet. I'm scared of what he'll say. I don't know if raising a child around Death Eaters would be the smartest idea, yet I know that they would be cared for. They wouldn't let anything happen to the Dark Lord's child. Merlin, what do I do?_ **

Jumping to the final page, Hermione scanned the paper hurriedly.

**_September 21st: She was born today, my beautiful Hermione Jean. She's absolutely stunning. She's here, just a few feet from me, sleeping soundly and I cannot imagine a world without her. He was right; she'll be so powerful and so loved. He wasn't there when I gave birth, but he stopped by a few hours ago and held her for the first time. Despite everything, she seemed so happy to meet him and he was rather emotional – well, as emotional as He could possibly be._ **

**_He vowed to protect her; swore his people would keep her safe always. I was surprised, but pleasantly so. I never expected him to actually care but miracles do happen I suppose. She will have a good life – the life I didn't have. I will not be my parents. She will know every day that she is loved. She will not have to strive to be the "perfect" pureblood; she can be happy._ **

**_She will not become a monster._ **

Hermione bit her lip, fighting back tears. She refused to cry again; she'd cried enough for an entire _lifetime_.

 _What would she think of me now?_ Hermione wondered miserably, closing the book and tossing it aside. She buried her face in her hands. _Caught in the middle of this wretched war and mated to the most notorious Death Eater of all time. I must be such a disappointment._

She stayed that way for a moment, trying to regain her composure before turning her attention to the sheets of parchment covering the smooth wood. She piled them together and started sorting through the inked pages. Some of them were trash, lines of black cutting through whatever she'd written, while others seemed to be potions Kathryn had created – well, she assumed they were potions. Setting them into their own group, she heaped the rest into appropriate piles and summoned Drog, ordering him to destroy the useless papers; she saw no reason in keeping them if they were merely going to clutter the desk.

Once she was satisfied with her cleaning, Hermione's eyes fell on the potions stack. Grasping the top one, she studied it intensively. She wasn't a potions master by any means and she had absolutely no idea if the instructions were correct, but she noticed its uses and it intrigued her.

**_Counteracts the effects of Veritaserum._ **

"Huh," Hermione muttered, absently grabbing another page.

**_Instant reversal of a Polyjuice potion._ **

Knowing how dangerous it could be – especially if they worked – Hermione gathered them together and leaned back in the chair, contemplating the best course of action. She considered locking them away, but dismissed the idea quickly. They might be helpful later on and shutting them in a vault would only make things difficult in the long run.

_Bella?_

There was a brief moment of silence before her lover's voice echoed in her head. _Yes, darling?_

 _Can you come in here? I need your opinion on something._ She was given no reply but knew Bellatrix would fulfill with her request.

The "CREAK" of the door announced Bellatrix's presence as she strolled into the room, her hands falling to Hermione's shoulders when she stopped behind her. "You called?"

Hermione leaned forward and took hold of a page, handing it to her girlfriend. There was a brief stillness as Bellatrix perused the parchment inquisitively before Hermione broke the quiet. "I haven't the faintest if these potions really work but I don't want to risk it. I don't feel safe leaving them out freely but locking them in my family's vault seems like an equally dreadful idea. What do you think I should do?"

Bellatrix hummed thoughtfully, passing the paper back to Hermione. "I agree that those could be dangerous if they were found." She paused, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. "I might have a solution, however. There is only one person I trust to leave such _sensitive_ documents with and she could test their legitimacy."

"That's brilliant, love. I can't believe I didn't think of Narcissa myself," Hermione praised, peering up at a blushing Bellatrix, who shrugged bashfully.

 _Bashful? A word I never thought I'd associate with_ Bellatrix Black.

She called for Drog again and her loyal house elf appeared once more, always eager to please his young mistress.

"Take these to Madam Malfoy immediately. Do not let _anyone else_ see them. Only her," she instructed firmly, settling them in his arms.

"Of course, Mistress."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I posted this at the same time as I did ff.net but apparently it didn't go through? I don't know, I'm sorry! Enjoy. I'm sorry for disappearing. I had a hard time with something and it messed up my inspiration but I'm back!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Cooper Manor, more smut. The usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, I'm back? :)

_**Hermione J.** _

Trembling fingers brushed along the engraved wood, pausing on the final letter reverently. Her name was carved elegantly – thoughtfully – with adoration clear in the etching. Her mother had loved her dearly; that much was evident.

She'd fought with herself for the last few days, trying to steel herself enough to venture inside, but she hadn't managed until now. Their getaway was coming to an end – with only three days left until they were to return to Malfoy Manor – and she was determined to see inside the room before they departed. She wanted – no, she _needed_ – to.

Hermione pressed her forehead to the door, tears pricking the edges of her eyes though she choked them back. She did not see crying as a sign of weakness – neither did Bellatrix, who assured her young lover that she would never judge her for releasing her emotions – but she was tired of fucking _crying_ every time she thought of Kathryn. She wanted to rejoice in her mother's love, not grieve for the things stolen from her. She would avenge her death but she was not going to let anyone take another piece of her mother away.

Her mother's memory would not die.

Her hand fell to the doorknob and she inhaled shakily. She almost regretted telling Bellatrix she needed to do this alone, but she steeled her nerves and turned the handle. She froze for a moment…

_I can do this._

It opened with a quiet squeak. It was dark, the curtains drawn in such a way that shadows fell upon her old crib and hid it from her weary gaze. She could see the vague outline of her dresser and the canopy that hung over the bassinette, but nothing else. Flipping on the light, she took in the sight.

It was very _Slytherin._ The pillows and sheets on her bed were identical to the green that Draco and Bellatrix displayed proudly at Malfoy Manor; the canopy sheer but clearly silver. Her dresser was a neutral wooden color, pictures of her mother and a few of her adorning the top. A large mirror hung above it with ancient words carved into the frame.

Biting her lip, Hermione ignored the coppery taste on her tongue and remained motionless. She couldn't bring herself to step inside any further. The room was clean, immaculately so. It was evident the elves had kept it clean after her mother's death.

Her heart beating erratically in her chest, Hermione stepped over to the dresser. She traced her fingers over charmed glass, watching Kathryn dance about with toddler Hermione in her arms. Tiny hands gripped her mother's shirt, laughing wildly when Kathryn spun in a circle. It was a picture of absolute serenity and Hermione's knees felt as though they would buckle.

Swallowing drily, her gaze fell upon the other photo. It was Hermione, only a few days old. Her hair was thicker than most babies' and her chocolate eyes far more perceptive. She was staring up at something out of sight, her hands curling and uncurling over and over.

She studied the pictures a moment longer before casting her eyes away. Her stomach rolled and bile crept up her throat, but she choked it down. She noticed the truck at the foot of the crib and walked toward it. She stooped down and flicked the lock, opening it to glance inside.

There were dolls scattered about. Some were stationary while others had eyes that seemed to follow her eyes movement. It was almost creepy, but Hermione understood that a good majority of wizarding dolls tended to have _some_ functionalities. There was a decidedly muggle-looking car mingling with the other toys and Hermione wondered if Kathryn had the same hatred for muggles and muggleborns that the Black family did.

She sighed, almost letting the top drop closed before something caught her attention. It was hidden, tucked between two dolls, though it still glittered in the light. Gripping it carefully, she tugged out a vial of sorts. A white wisp swirled about, bouncing off the sides of the vial.

She wasn't stupid; she knew _exactly_ what the vial contained. Dumbledore's office housed loads of them - though they resembled tubes more than vials - but she assumed her mother had been in a rush creating this one.

_I wonder if there are any more._

-X-

Narcissa flitted about the potions room, eyeing her supplies critically as she glanced between them and the paper held delicately in her hands. The instructions were clear-cut and simple enough, but they called for a very particular set of ingredients that were far rarer than anything she kept stocked. She was certain that she hadn't any Acromantula venom and she'd used the last of the dragon's blood ages ago.

Nodding to herself, she strolled out of the room and down the hall. Grabbing her coat, she tucked the parchment into her pocket before slipping it on. She brushed off her skirt and double-checked her appearance in the mirror before deciding she was presentable. Her blonde locks curled perfectly around her sharp features, not a single hair out of place.

"Going somewhere, love?" Lucius asked, appearing behind her as his arms encircled her waist.

She smiled, tolerantly accepting his kiss when it brushed her cheek. "I must make a quick trip to Diagon Alley. I need to visit the Apothecary."

"For what?" he inquired curiously, locking eyes with her in the mirror.

She patted his hand. "I simply need to restock on some ingredients. I hadn't noticed how low I was getting. Hermione's potions require more than I realized."

Humming, Lucius pressed another kiss to her jaw before releasing her. "Shall I go with you?"

"I will be perfectly fine going alone, darling." She gave him a faint smile. "I'm more than capable and I'm sure you have better things to do than accompany me to Diagon Alley."

"Nothing is more important to me than you," he replied seriously, a flash of something odd flittering across his face before disappearing. If she hadn't known her husband as well as she did, she might have missed it but she knew him better than most.

_How strange._

She cupped his jaw affectionately. "I shall be fine, darling, I assure you."

He scrutinized her face for a moment before he relaxed and his usual cool expression returned. She was troubled by his wariness, but she couldn't quite put her finger on _why_. He hadn't been so out of sorts since the Dark Lord's arrival. He'd become His favorite once more since his subsequent "adopting" of Hermione; him acting so peculiar now left an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Walking over to the fireplace, she took a handful of powder and stepped inside.

"Diagon Alley."

-X-

Three vials dropped onto the book in Bellatrix's lap, startling the older woman awake. She'd dozed off reading a historical book she'd found lying around. She wasn't a history buff by any means, but the mention of wizards who'd nearly succeeded in taking control of the Wizarding World had intrigued her. Many never came into power the way Grindelwald or the Dark Lord had, but their victories were still something to study.

Their failures were lessons on what _not_ to do.

"Is there a pensieve at Malfoy Manor?" Hermione wondered, settling on the chair across from Bellatrix's.

Blinking the haze of sleep from her eyes, Bellatrix glanced down at the swirling wisps. "I believe there is one in Lucius' study. Are these…?"

"I think they're memories Mother left for me to find." Hermione leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

Bellatrix clicked her tongue thoughtfully, lifting a vial up to gaze at it. "I doubt Kathryn would do anything on accident." She peered at her exhausted lover. "Would you like to go back to the manor now or wait?"

"We might as well finish our vacation. I don't think it'll do any harm to wait."

Bellatrix studied the Gryffindor. Her shoulders were taut, as if she were carrying the weight of the world on them. There were bags under her eyes, the faint bruising noticeable against her pale flesh. She was sleeping but it was apparent she wasn't sleeping _well_.

"How about we go outside? Maybe get some fresh air and duel a little? You look like you could use it," Bellatrix suggested gently, setting the book aside and making sure not to jostle the vials lest one of them accidentally plummet to the floor.

"That…" Hermione sighed, "Sounds wonderful."

Gleefully, Bellatrix hopped up from her chair and offered Hermione a hand, linking their fingers. They meandered out of the manor, arms swinging as they took in the warm afternoon breeze. Rannoch Moor was stunning; the trees surrounding the property were thriving and the world seemed at peace, as if the wars had never once touched the lands.

Outside the iron gate, Hermione noticed a footpath. It was clear it'd been traveled a number of times; even over a decade later, the ground was still a little darker and the grass beat down.

_Another one of Mother's spells, I'm sure._

Tugging on Bellatrix's hand, Hermione pressed the gate open and started along the trail. It wove in and out of the trees. Flowers bloomed next to the path, their vibrant colors standing out against the green; reds and yellows bright even in the shade of the trees.

Bellatrix followed her lover silently, in awe of the beauty around them. Being locked in Azkaban for so many years left her jaded, her haunted memories of bleak walls and crashing waves threatening to suffocate her if she dared to remember, but being with Hermione had reminded her to look at the splendor of the world whenever she could. Being surrounded by death and mayhem left her with little time to do so, but she'd greedily taken in everything they'd done over the last few days and locked those memories away for whenever life dipped back into a gloomier state of being.

Stepping out of the trees, Hermione paused. Crystal waters greeted them a few yards away and stole Hermione's breath. "Wow."

The lake was a good mile long and its water still. Sun gleamed off the surface, making the water seem unnaturally blue. Little ripples appeared once in a while as fish swam to the top before disappearing back into its depths.

Walking over to the edge, Hermione peered into it.

"This place is gorgeous," Bellatrix agreed, squeezing Hermione's hand.

Nodding, Hermione freed Bellatrix's hand and stooped down, letting her fingers drift along the surface. It was incredibly warm to the touch, like a relaxing bath after a hard day of training. She found it rather comforting.

"Let's practice. I need to…" Hermione trailed off, but Bellatrix understood perfectly. She knew how it felt to have so much energy building inside without a means of escape.

Putting a bit of distance between them, Bellatrix bowed. Copying her lover, Hermione readied herself. Her magic tingled in her veins, sparking beneath her skin as she narrowed her eyes.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione flicked her wrist, but wasn't surprised when Bellatrix deflected it easily.

Bellatrix smirked predatorily. "You can do better than that, love."

Knuckles whitening as her grip tightened, Hermione pursed her lips. Anger bubbled in her chest, every dark, twisted thought she'd conjured in the last few days rearing their ugly heads. Something nasty curled around her heart, leaving behind nothing but fury.

Sensing her lover's rage, Bellatrix's smirk deepened. "Come on, darling. Do it."

With a wave of her wand, Hermione conjured birds from the tip and pointed at Bellatrix. "Oppugno."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. Hermione was holding back and they both knew it. Throwing up a shield, she watched disinterestedly as they dissolved against the spell. It was evident Hermione needed a little _push_.

"Bombarda!" The ground in front of Hermione exploded and she dove out of the way, barely catching a breath before another spell was flung at her. "Carpe Retractum!"

A tight rope wrapped around her waist and dragged her forward, holding steadfast despite her struggling. When she was close enough, Bellatrix gripped Hermione's shoulders, her nails biting sharply into the skin beneath her shirt.

"Let it out," Bellatrix hissed, her gaze colder than Hermione had ever seen pointed at her. "You can do better than this! You _are_ better than this."

Gritting her teeth, Hermione shoved her hands against Bellatrix's sternum. "Everte Statum!"

She watched with sick satisfaction as Bellatrix flew backward, the rope vanishing from its hold on her waist. She didn't necessarily want to _hurt_ Bella, but if the older witch wanted a fight, she'd get one.

With a maniacal cackle, Bellatrix rose and brushed the dirt from her corset. She glanced at the wand in her hand for a moment before tossing it aside. She wouldn't need it if the thrum of magic in her fingertips was any indication. She desperately wanted to practice wandless spells anyways and who better to practice with than her lover?

With Hermione's trepidations all but gone, spells began to flow freely. They were evenly matched; every hex Hermione threw, Bellatrix was prepared and would counter with two of her own. It became less of a duel and more of a dance, each trying valiantly to take the lead. Step for step, spell for spell, the women's determinations escaladed, both refusing to give an inch; the energy between them palpable.

Rogue spells lashed out against the earth and the lake, leaving behind gaping holes and rippling waters. The grass closest to Bellatrix was singed, wisps of smoke billowing upward towards the heavens. She'd stomped out the fires before they'd grown too big, distracting her long enough for Hermione to catch her breath before another volley of spells were aimed at her. Bruises littered her body and a thin cut smeared blood across her cheek but it was the best she'd felt in days.

A rather powerful Flipendo sent her hurtling backwards and knocked the wand from her grasp. It was just out of reach, but there wasn't enough time to scramble for it.

"Protego!" The spell barely managed to stop the impending fiery arrow soaring at her. It dissolved into nothingness against the barrier before the shield gave way and she was left winded on the ground.

Heaving herself up, Hermione glared at her approaching lover. Bellatrix was grinning, obviously proud of herself. Hermione had yet to best her, but she wasn't foolish. Soon Hermione would completely be her equal in battle…

But until then, she was going to relish her wins.

"What was that last spell?" Hermione panted, wiping the sweat from her brow.

Bellatrix shrugged. "I found it in one of your mother's old books. It was once a spell used at certain professional Quidditch matches but it was outlawed. Apparently a stray arrow pierced a man's nose and the Ministry banned it."

"I understand why," Hermione mumbled.

"You're cute when you pout," Bellatrix jeered, poking Hermione's side playfully.

"Bugger off," Hermione sneered, though it held no real malice.

Snorting, Bellatrix brushed her thumb over the cut on Hermione's cheek. It wasn't deep and it wouldn't scar, but she still muttered a spell under her breath and immediately, it was gone.

Hermione nuzzled the hand resting on her cheek and sighed contentedly. "Thank you."

Bellatrix's brow arched questioningly.

"For this. For," Hermione chewed her lip, "For just being you." She leaned forward, kissing the woman chastely. It wasn't wanton – she was far too tired – but it expressed what words couldn't. She poured all of her love and adoration into the simple gesture.

-X-

Nimble fingers danced along her spine, so gentle they were lulling her to sleep but she fought the urge. Wiggling closer to Bellatrix, Hermione intertwined her free hand with Bellatrix's, letting them rest tenderly on her clothed stomach. Her leg was tossed over Bellatrix's as she curled deeper into the woman's ministrations.

"I love you," Hermione murmured, her lips brushing over Bellatrix's collarbone.

Bellatrix smiled in the darkness, her digits drifting upward to massage Hermione's scalp. "I love you too, darling."

Closing her eyes, Hermione smiled serenely, remember the first time Bellatrix had spoken those words to her. The moment wasn't planned but it was perfect; completely spontaneous and so completely _them_. She'd never seen such an expression of pure joy before that moment and all Hermione wanted to see was that look over and over again for the rest of her life.

The nails scratching her scalp slowed to a stop and Hermione cracked one eye open, peering up at her lover. Even in complete darkness, she could make out the vague outline of the older witch. Her head was cocked to the side, her nose inches from Hermione's.

"Is everything okay?"

Smooth lips touched hers and her body grew pliant. A persistent tongue begged for entrance and Hermione was powerless to deny it. It was hot and wet, coaxing delicious noises that Hermione couldn't bring herself to be embarrassed about.

"Not that I'm complaining," Hermione said breathlessly when Bellatrix's lips left hers, "But what was that about?"

Bellatrix grinned against Hermione's jaw, nipping at it. "I could see your thoughts. You were thinking about the first time you said you loved me…"

"Wait, you could _see_ it?" Hermione leaned away from Bellatrix's nuzzling, her eyes flitting across her lover's face.

Nodding, Bellatrix cupped Hermione's cheek and pressed their foreheads together with a contented smile. "I could see everything – _feel_ everything. Every emotion you felt, I can feel it like they're my own."

"Really?" Hermione's breath caught in her chest. "That's amazing."

Bellatrix hummed, brushing her thumb along Hermione's cheekbone. She kissed her lover sweetly, though it didn't take long for a brief flare of desire earlier to blossom into a rampant fire that encased them. A playful tongue flicked across pouty lips and Hermione was more than willing to let Bellatrix's probing muscle in.

Rolling Hermione onto her back, Bellatrix threw a leg over Hermione's, groaning as the younger woman flexed her thigh. A breathy moan broke the kiss and Bellatrix dragged her lips along the expansion of soft skin that was Hermione's neck, the tilting of her lover's head an indication that she wasn't at all complaining about the exploration. Teeth dragged lightly against a prominent collarbone before a pouty Bellatrix came into view, tugging impatiently at Hermione's shirt.

"We should stop wearing clothes to bed," Bellatrix declared decisively, glaring at the offending material.

Smirking, Hermione ran a finger over Bellatrix's chest, watching proudly as two firm peaks became visible beneath the clingy fabric that was just _barely_ considered a night shirt. "But disrobing each other is so much fun. It's like a treasure hunt."

Growling, Bellatrix moved to straddle her soulmate's thigh, gripping the top of Hermione's shirt once she was properly settled.

"Oh no you don't," Hermione warned, her hands encircling Bellatrix's pale wrists. "I refuse to let you destroy _another_ of mytops. You've ruined three this summer."

Blushing at the Gryffindor's chiding tone, she released the offending article of clothing. "See? This is why we should sleep naked."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're such a child."

Leaning down, Bellatrix nipped at Hermione's bared shoulder. "Take it off."

Humming thoughtfully, Hermione traced a hand along the back of Bellatrix's neck before tangling in the wild curls. Gripping them tightly, she surprised Bellatrix by easily rolling them over and copying Bellatrix's earlier position.

"I think not. I want to have my very wicked way with you and if I'm naked, you'll distract me." She captured Bellatrix's lips in a searing kiss, sliding her hands underneath the only thing keeping her from Bellatrix's flushed skin.

Skimming her fingers over taut nipples, Hermione slowly trailed open-mouth kisses along a sharp jaw line, following it to just below Bellatrix's ear. Her warm breath tickled but Bellatrix was more than content to let her lover take the reins. She dug her fingers into Hermione's hips and tilted her head.

"Well, who am I to s-stop you?" Bellatrix moaned, her voice cracking as Hermione tweaked her tightened flesh.

Hermione smirked, nipping at Bellatrix's earlobe. It was arousing how easily she could turn Bellatrix into a wanton puddle. Running her tongue over Bellatrix's neck, she grasped the hem of Bellatrix's shirt and tugged it off, pressing firmly into Bellatrix once the offending garment was tossed somewhere into the darkness.

One of Bellatrix's hands slid up into her hair, impatiently trying to guide her farther down, though Hermione resisted.

"Patience, love," Hermione purred, laving Bellatrix's pounding pulse point with her tongue before sinking her teeth into the inviting juncture.

Whining, Bellatrix unconsciously bucked, seeking friction for her overheated core. A low growl of warning bubbled in Hermione's throat and Bellatrix stopped despite how desperately she wanted to grind into the bed or the knee not too far from her apex.

Taking pity on her lover, Hermione continued her downward journey, her mouth engulfing one nipple while she plucked and twisted the other mercilessly. Bellatrix was fond of firmer handling and Hermione was more than happy to oblige. Obviously she was fond of their slower love-making, but Hermione had come to realize that she was quite a fan of hard and rough sex too.

Releasing the sensitive peak, Hermione offered its twin the same treatment as her free hand traveled lower, resting just above where Bellatrix needed her most. Being trapped in Hermione's wondrous yet oh so _torturous_ ministrations had left Bellatrix's panties ruined, arousal soaking her thighs as her engorged muscle twitched against the soft fabric.

Bellatrix tugged on Hermione's hair, dragging her away from her chest and brought their mouths together in a hot, toe-curling kiss.

"I want to try something," Bellatrix whispered breathlessly.

Curiously, Hermione allowed Bellatrix to guide her hand into the sodden barrier, fingers teasing Bellatrix's throbbing clit before sliding two deep inside the older woman, her broken moans filling the otherwise silent room. Pressing their foreheads together, Bellatrix forced herself to relax and focus. She thought of their previous times together – of the passion and desire, of how their bodies moved in tandem, of how Hermione felt clenched around her fingers.

Hermione's breath caught in her chest as memories flooded her mind. She could feel everything – how much Bellatrix desired her; the lust and love pouring outward as memories of Bellatrix's hands ghosted along her body. Connecting their lips, Hermione slowly began stroking her fingers within the molten apex of her lover, her own body dragging across Bellatrix's firm thigh. She could've sworn she felt those talented fingers of Bellatrix tracing across her stomach and toward her aching clit; could feel them dip inside and curl, rubbing against her g-spot despite the fact Bellatrix's hands were buried in her hair.

Bellatrix moaned shamelessly, her grip tightening as her tongue massaged Hermione's. She was barely aware of Hermione's grinding, completely lost in the memories of their escapades and the fingers bringing her closer to the edge. It was overwhelming but Bellatrix never wanted it to end.

As the memories drew closer to the climax, so did they. Hermione could feel the familiar coiling in her stomach that made her knees shake and eyes roll back. Curling her own fingers in time with memory Bella's, Hermione tipped over the edge, bringing Bellatrix with her as their symphony of moans and shouts of pleasure shattered the silence of the night. Collapsing boneless atop her lover, Hermione whimpered as the last of her orgasm washed over her.

Weakly, Bellatrix hugged Hermione close, absently grabbing for the covers and tossing them over her.

"That was intense," Hermione mumbled, her cheek rubbing against Bellatrix's breast affectionately. She slipped her fingers out of Bellatrix, smiling sleepily at the quiet moan that rumbled in Bellatrix's chest.

Bellatrix laughed, adjusting Hermione into a more comfortable position. "It was," she agreed softly, combing her fingers through brunette locks. "But it was amazing."

"I love you." Hermione smiled, letting her eyes drift closed and sleep overtake her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I always say I'm back and then I disappear for months at a time, but life is a major pain sometimes and leaves me with writers block and a life that falls apart. I can't apologize enough and I hope two chapters makes up for that.
> 
> I don't know how I feel about them because they're both shorter than normal, but they move the story along and that's what matters, right?

“Merlin…”

Ocean eyes stared blankly – almost unseeingly – down at the papers strewn across her countertop, oblivious to the smoke billowing over the sides of a nearby cauldron. Shaky fingers reached out as though to touch the inked words but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She almost feared they would disappear from sight, erasing them from the world and destroying the brilliance of a young woman taken far too young.

Narcissa was a very thorough woman. She had brewed the first potion she’d come across – the Veritaserum counteractive – and called upon Snape to use as her guinea pig. He was skeptical but did as he was asked, downing a small vial of truth serum without a single wince or complaint. She asked him a few questions and, when he answered rigidly but honestly, she offered him the second potion.

“When I ask my next question, Severus, lie,” she instructed calmly, watching the stoic man critically as he drained – what she hoped was – an antidote.

Standing motionless for a moment, he let the potion take effect before nodding his consent.

“What color is the sky?”

Snape rolled his eyes at such a simplistic question, but answered none the less, “Orange.”

Grinning, Narcissa clapped her hands together. “Wonderful.”

Snape quirked his brow, curiosity brimming in his dark eyes as he observed the woman. “That wasn’t the typical cure for Veritaserum. It worked far faster than the normal counteractive.”

“I know,” Narcissa admitted. “Can you keep a secret, Severus?”

With a deadpan expression, he replied dully, “Obviously.”

Narcissa’s melodious laugh filled the room and Snape had to bite back his amused smile. It was nice to see the witch rather carefree instead of her usual icy façade.

“Hermione was going through her mother’s belongings when she came across a stack of instructions for the potions Kathryn had created – or tried to create, anyways – and that was one of them. I must say I’m rather impressed. The ingredients are a bit pricey, but it takes less time to act and you only needed a little bit compared to an entire vial like the other requires. I’m quite impressed.”

Snape hummed thoughtfully. “I must say, it tastes better too.”

“Yes, because that is the most important thing about this experiment. Merlin knows comfort is a top priority,” Narcissa sneered, though it held no real malice.

After deeming it a success, Narcissa began combing through the papers diligently, setting aside those Kathryn had perfected into a pile while setting the ones she hadn’t managed to finish into another. There were notes and speculations written in the margins of the failures, giving Narcissa some ideas as to what might have gone awry. Some of her commentary was very colorful and would have sent anyone else into a fit of giggles – but Narcissa wasn’t just anyone.

She was, and always would be in some way, a Black.

There was one recipe, however, that made her pause and one that was so utterly unbelievable that it left her in a stunned silence.

**_Liquid Cruciatus._ **

Narcissa was rather startled to find such a harsh design tossed amongst the throngs of parchment. The majority of potions she tried to create were meant to help, not harm; she was trying to better the world, so why would such a despicable creation live among such _goodness_?

Skimming over the notations, Narcissa could see the disgust Kathryn held at the very concept of something like that existing yet she continued to work and rework the formula.

_Why, Kathryn?_

But, what left her truly speechless wasn’t the wicked idea etched strictly into the crisp paper. No, it was the final recipe that sent her heart plummeting into her stomach; that made her palms slick and her breath catch in her throat.

There, sprawled out in hurried, sloppy penmanship was a potion for something no wizard had ever dared to imagine. It was such an implausible idea that no one had even _dreamed_ of trying to conjure, let alone try and complete.

_A way to cheat death._

-X-

Back pressed against the headboard, Hermione thumbed through her mother’s journal, one hand grasping the bottom of the book while the other gently petted her lover’s hair, only pausing to turn the page before returning to the soothing motion. Bellatrix was asleep beside her, an arm tossed over her legs while her head was pressed against the side of Hermione’s thigh. They’d wasted most of their second to last day practicing spells in the open courtyard of the estate and, despite exhausting herself physically, Hermione couldn’t force herself into slumber.

**_April 23 rd, 1977: The Dark Lord has asked something of me that I am not sure I can give him. He says my mind is a brilliant thing and I should not waste it waiting to become someone’s wife. He asked me to join his ranks, but he didn’t seem surprised I declined. I could never bear that mark. I suppose I should be thankful He wasn’t offended; I’d probably be dead otherwise._ **

Bellatrix groaned softly in her sleep, rubbing her face against Hermione’s bare skin before settling back into a peaceful doze. Hermione smiled tenderly at her slumbering partner, playing affectionately with those wild curls she’d come to love so much.

Setting the book on her lap, she folded the ear of the page she’d read and flipped ahead before bringing it up to read over the elegant lettered writing.

**_August 5 th, 1978: I met a nice young man today. He was somewhat meek compared to the others that have joined the Dark Lord, but he was kind to me. He was joining the Dark Lord for a meeting with my father and Abraxas and his son Lucius. I’ve met Lucius and his wife before, but I forgot how _cold _he can be. He is definitely Abraxas’ son._**

**_Severus was nothing like him, though. He held himself the way all Slytherins do, but there was a fire in him I wasn’t expecting. It doesn’t boil over or erupt like my father or Abraxas. His is more of a dull roar, simply waiting for the flames to be stoked. I can tell he’s hurting, though. There’s a deep sadness fueling that fire._ **

**_I wish he’d smile. I bet it’s lovely._ **

Hermione blinked owlishly.

_My mother had a thing for Snape…_

Shuddering, she tossed the book onto the bedside table and, with a thoughtless wave of her hand, plunged the room into darkness. She didn’t inch down into the blankets; she just mindlessly stroked Bellatrix’s hair and stared into the unforgiving void. It seemed the answers she found in her mother’s words only produced more questions.

_If Mother hadn’t conceived me with Father, I bet I could have been Snape’s daughter…_

“What’s wrong?” Bellatrix mumbled sleepily, her lips tickling the soft flesh her head rested upon.

“What makes you think anything is wrong, love?” Hermione questioned, not terribly surprised her lover had awoken.

Dancing her fingers along Hermione’s hip, Bellatrix hummed as she brought her head up so it rested atop her leg. “I can feel your emotions, remember? You’re frustrated and a little grossed out and I was simply curious as to _why_.”

“My mother could have fallen for Snape if given half a chance, I think,” Hermione admitted into the darkness, still unable to wrap her mind around that notion. She knew she might be seeing more there than there actually was, but the mere _thought_ of Kathryn liking Severus brought up all sorts of weird visuals that she wanted to purge immediately.

Bellatrix made a strangled noise of disgust, kissing Hermione’s thigh sympathetically. “Now I completely understand.”

Laughing, Hermione tugged lightly on Bellatrix’s hair. “Bella, don’t be mean. I’m certain Severus would be a wonderful father, I just…”

“Can’t imagine him being yours?” Bellatrix finished knowingly, the corner of her mouth curling up into a smirk.

“Exactly!”

Silence fell around them comfortably, both women caught up in their own thoughts. Hermione chewed on her lip, glancing down at her lover despite being unable to see her features. She knew Bellatrix was still awake, the soft drag of her nails over the dips and curve of her hipbone soothing. Every touch Bellatrix offered was unhurried – undemanding. She always seemed to know what Hermione needed and, while she couldn’t heal them entirely, her love and warmth could smooth the jagged edges of her wounds.

“Bella?”

“Hm?”

“Did you ever meet my mother?” Hermione held her breath, not certain if she wanted her lover to say yes or no. On one hand, it’d be lovely to hear stories – or, if she dared to hope, _see_ them – but on the other, it might hurt knowing Bellatrix had met a woman she never would.

Bellatrix froze, hesitant to answer. She’d seen Kathryn at parties Abraxas had thrown and talked with her a few times whenever she was with the Dark Lord, but they were nothing of consequence. She was usually following His orders and didn’t have much time to interact with the woman. Had she known then what she did now, she would have _made_ time.

“I did,” Bellatrix admitted after a moment. “She was lovely, but I never really had the chance to know her.”

Exhaling quietly, Hermione’s gaze found its way back into the darkness. “I don’t know if I’m relieved you don’t know any more about her than I do or if I’m disappointed. Is that wrong?”

“No, my darling, it isn’t wrong.” Another kiss was pressed apologetically to Hermione’s leg.

“I want so desperately to understand her – to _know_ her – but it seems like everyone else has memories of her that I’ll never truly see. They can tell me about her and I can read her journals, but I’ll only know the _memory_ , never _her_.”

Wishing there was some comfort she could offer, Bellatrix nudged Hermione into a lying position and tugged her close, bringing her head to rest in the crook of the older woman’s neck. “It might not seem like much, but take solace in the knowledge that you came from her, so you will always have something from her that others will never know – her unwavering love - even if you do not remember it. You are a piece of her and _no one_ can take that from you.”

Tears brimming in her eyes, Hermione buried her face into Bellatrix, her breaths shaky as she tried to absorb her lover’s words. Giving a watery laugh, she teased, “When did you get so smart?”

Snorting, Bellatrix pinched at Hermione’s side. “I’ve always been smart!”

“Well, you love me so you must be at least a _little_ smart.”

“Brat.”

-X-

It was odd returning to Malfoy Manor. She’s grown accustom to it being just her and Bellatrix over the previous two weeks…

But, truthfully, it felt like home.

She enjoyed watching the Death Eaters milling about, lost in their own thoughts or discussing upcoming missions or simply just screwing around until they had somewhere to be or something to do. She liked seeing Dolohov and Greyback, their feet kicked up _again_ on Narcissa’s nice furniture despite her warning that the Malfoy matriarch will probably hex them one day if they kept at it.

Most of all, she’d missed the Malfoys themselves.

She’d missed Narcissa’s motherly fussing and Lucius acting like a cool uncle mixed with a little fatherly sternness. And most of all, she’d missed Draco, the boy who had become so much like a brother to her that she often forgot he actually _wasn’t_ (granted, it would have been entirely creepy if they were blood siblings, all things considered).

Stepping through the threshold, Hermione paused to take it all in. She could hear the clatter from the kitchens as elves prepared for dinner. She could see Dolohov leaning against the three floor banister like he’d been when the summer started, smiling down at her.

It was nice to be back.

“Hermione!” Draco grinned as he strolled out of the library, Lucius not far behind him. “You’re back.” He swept the girl up into a hug, swinging her around.

Laughing, Hermione slapped at his shoulder. “You’re acting like I’ve been gone for months. It’s only been two weeks!”

“Two dreadfully _boring_ weeks,” he whined, setting her back on the ground. “I was so bored I willingly spent time with _Crabbe_ and _Goyle_.”

Hermione winced sympathetically. They were so incredibly dull and Draco was not. She was honestly surprised he’d managed to stomach their company for this long.

“I never thought I’d see the day my _dear_ nephew would be happier to see Hermione than me,” Bellatrix snarked coolly, an unimpressed brow arched.

Draco smirked mischievously before hugging his aunt. “I’m glad you’re back too, Aunt Bella.”

Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix pinched Draco’s side teasingly. Stepping around him, Bellatrix hugged Narcissa briefly, taking in the tired demeanor of her favorite sister.

Draco linked arms with Hermione, steering her toward the garden. “Come on. I want to duel. I’ve been practicing with Father and I’m certain I might finally stand a chance.”

“Maybe.”

Draco chuckled, hip checking her affectionately as he dragged her outside.

Bellatrix shook her head, amused by her nephew’s excitement. Brushing a strand of blonde hair from Narcissa’s face, Bellatrix tilted her head. “Are you alright, Cissy?”

Narcissa smiles weakly, serving to only worry the eldest Black more. “I’m fine, Bella. Just a little tired.”

“Are you sure?”

Narcissa patted Bellatrix’s hand, smiling a little more genuinely. “Yes, Bella. Don’t worry so much.”

“You’re my baby sister. I’m entitled to worry.”

Narcissa beckoned for the dark witch to follow her into the sitting room. “Come tell me about your vacation. I’m curious as to what all you’ve done.” She glanced over her shoulder, scowling at the dirty uptick of Bellatrix’s lips. “The _clean_ things. I have no interest in the sordid details.”

Bellatrix pouted but dutifully trailed behind the Malfoy matriarch.

It really was good to be home.


	7. Chapter 7

“Must you really go?” Bellatrix whined, her arms encircling Hermione’s waist. Her grip was tight, as though she were afraid Hermione would disappear if she were to let go.

Leaning back into the embrace, the younger witch let the shirt she was holding fall from her fingers. “Yes, love, I do. I haven’t seen Ginny all summer and I promised her I would come see her before term. It’s only for a week.”

Sighing, Bellatrix pressed her nose to the side of Hermione’s throat. “I know. I just hate being away from you. This school year is going to be quite a bit harder than the last.”

The idea of being away from Bellatrix left a sickening feeling in the base of Hermione’s stomach, the bile rising in her throat threatening to choke her. They’d barely been apart all summer and she’d grown accustom to sleeping in her lover’s arms. Knowing that security would be ripped away in a mere month’s time was unsettling and utterly terrifying.

“Don’t think about it,” Hermione murmured, sliding her hands atop Bellatrix’s. “We still have a month.”

Bellatrix bit back a reminder that they’d only have three weeks once Hermione returned. She knew she couldn’t keep the young witch at her side forever - it was terribly unhealthy – but once Hermione went back to Hogwarts, she wouldn’t be able to protect her. Death Eaters were wreaking havoc daily and she feared that the students would target Hermione in retaliation.

She lived with them, after all.

“Send her my hellos and my thank yous,” Bellatrix mumbled, nudging Hermione’s head with her own. She couldn’t help smiling when Hermione shot her a curious look. “She cares for you when I cannot and is a good friend to you. It warrants thanks, even if her family is a bunch of blood traitors.”

“Bella…” Hermione warned, sighing when Bellatrix merely shrugged.

“I know, she isn’t her family,” Bellatrix recited, the statement practically ingrained in her from Hermione repeating it so often.

Hermione would never admit it aloud, but sometimes it deeply bothered her how much Bellatrix disliked muggleborns and half-bloods. Why wouldn’t it? She was raised believing she was one; she had friends who actually _were_. She wasn’t taught that same hatred – and Bellatrix was. She would never care for them, even if the Dark Lord had decided they had their place in the world. As much as Hermione wished she could change those views, it was impossible.

Bellatrix would always be a Black.

“I need to leave soon,” Hermione reminded Bellatrix remorsefully, slipping out of her arms and returning to the task of packing a small trunk.

Exhaling deeply through her nose, Bellatrix stepped away from her lover and sat on the bed, watching Hermione flit about. She eyed the trunk, wondering if she could magic it away without Hermione yelling at.

_Probably not_ , she mused forlornly.

“I’m positive if you get too lonely Father will task you with something,” Hermione appeased, smiling at her quiet girlfriend. It was unnerving to see Bellatrix so somber.

“He already has,” Bellatrix admitted, grinning sheepishly. It wasn’t nearly as chaotic as she’d hoped, but it would be enough to keep her mind off Hermione’s absence – hopefully. “Will you be staying at Grimmauld Place?”

“No,” Hermione shook her head. “The Order has moved headquarters. They did not trust that you wouldn’t remember the place.”

“Of course I do,” Bellatrix sneered, clearly offended by the insinuation. “I remember it quite well.”

Hermione paused. “If you remember it, why hasn’t Father attacked? Surely He knows.”

“The Dark Lord believed it best to allow them to continue. He does not have everything he needs in order to defeat them and honestly, he wishes to see what Dumbledore is capable of. It is best to learn everything about your opponent before you strike,” Bellatrix answered diplomatically, conveniently leaving out the fact He would not attack with so many of Hermione’s friends crowded together.

It would be a very dreadful day if harm were to befall them.

Hermione hummed. “I won’t tell you where they are. Ginny is still my friend and I won’t betray that confidence.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

Smiling gratefully, Hermione latched her trunk. “Thank you.”

Rising, Bellatrix moved to Hermione’s side and tilted her head, pressing a firm kiss to her lips. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you too,” Hermione murmured against her lover’s lips.

With a wave of Bellatrix’s hand, the trunk levitated off the bed and trailed behind the pair as they walked out of the room hand-in-hand. It bumped teasingly into Dolohov as they passed, Bellatrix shooting him a smirk over her shoulder as he groused.

“Be nice while I’m gone,” Hermione chided, squeezing Bellatrix’s hand.

Blinking, Bellatrix glanced at Hermione.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione laughed. “Well, don’t be utterly horrid.”

“I shall do my best,” the older witch acquiesced with a nod, stopping in front of the fireplace. “Have you got everything you need?”

Hermione tossed her arms around Bellatrix’s neck and brought her mouth onto hers, a silent promise that she would be fine. “I will see you in a week, love.”

“Not a minute more,” Bellatrix joked, cupping Hermione’s hips and tugging her into another kiss.

“Of course not. No one would dare to leave Bellatrix Black waiting.”

Inching away, Hermione grabbed the floating bag and dragged it toward the fireplace. Stepping inside, she felt the spell give way and the bag grow heavy in her hand. She studied her love for a moment, drinking in the sight.

Taking a handful of floo powder, Hermione said confidently, “Diagon Alley.”

In a burst of green fire, she was gone.

-X-

Ginny was already waiting for her when she appeared in Diagon Alley’s floo. She waited for Hermione to wipe the dust from her clothes before she threw herself into the older girl’s arms.

“Mione!”

Laughing, Hermione dropped her bag and hugged Ginny back. “Hi, Gin. You seem happy to see me.”

“You have no idea,” Ginny quipped, releasing Hermione from her tight embrace. “Harry’s been at the Burrow for weeks now and you know how he and Ron are.”

“They haven’t learned yet, have they?” Hermione guessed, the flush of Ginny’s cheeks the only answer needed.

“I’m not a child,” Ginny growled, “Yet they still treat me like one. I guess my help at the Ministry has already been forgotten because they seem to want nothing to do with me whenever they’re scheming. On top of that, Fleur is at the Burrow!”

Chuckling to herself, Hermione followed Ginny out into the main part of Diagon Alley.

Most of the shops were closed, aside from the twins’. Darkened doors and empty windows greeted them as they strolled down the lane. She was certain it was the work of Death Eaters, but Hermione wasn’t going to ask.

Sometimes it was better not knowing what went on behind the scenes.

“Did I tell you Bill and Fleur are engaged?” Ginny suddenly burst, clearly irritated by the announcement. “They think because You-Know-Who has returned that they need to rush into marriage. I mean, why? Bill could do so much better and Fleur is so...bleh.”

“She isn’t so bad,” Hermione replied.

“You live with Death Eaters, of course you wouldn’t think so,” Ginny muttered quietly, making sure no one overheard her comment. “She’s so stuck up and…”

“Gin, I think you’re being a little too hard on her. She was smart enough to get into the Triwizard Tournament after all.”

In the beginning, Hermione couldn’t deny that she _despised_ the half Veela. Something about her set Hermione’s teeth on edge and left her with a nasty taste in her mouth, but she’d come to understand why over the past few months. She was so concerned about Harry and Ron liking her – needing her friendship – that she hated Fleur entirely on principle. They fawned so heavily over her that Hermione was petrified she’d lose them. But in the end, had they picked Fleur over her, it would have just taught her what she knew now.

She didn’t need them.

“I think you should give her a chance. I bet they make sense if you sit down and really think about it,” Hermione argued, nudging people out of the way as they walked into the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll give her a chance but you’re giving her too much credit. It’s Phlegm for Merlin’s sake.”

It wasn’t too hard to find Molly. She was standing with the twins, chastising them for something Hermione couldn’t hear. She was obviously irate, but the young Weasley men didn’t seem to be concerned. They just nodded along, trying to placate the woman Hermione once thought of as a mother.

“I found Hermione,” Ginny announced as she clomped up the stairs towards them, cutting off Molly’s tirade.

Spine stiffening, Molly froze. She’d been dreading Hermione’s arrival. She knew what Albus asked of them, but she found it nearly impossible to come to terms with asking the Dark Lord’s daughter – the daughter of the man who murdered her brothers – for forgiveness.

As Molly turned, Hermione locked eyes with the older woman. She refused to back down; she would not be intimidated by the woman. She’d stared Death Eaters down without blinking, fought in the Ministry of Magic, been captured during a Triwizard Tournament to be some man’s _prize_. She wasn’t the scared little girl she used to be anymore.

She was Hermione Riddle.

Locked in a staring contest, both witches gauged the other. Molly had expected Hermione to falter, but she remained tall and proud. It was a battle of wills that Hermione wasn’t going to lose.

Finally glancing away, Molly forced a smile. “Good morning, Hermione.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Weasley.”

Catching sight of Hermione’s trunk, Molly was thankful to have something else to focus on. “Why don’t I go ahead and send your belongings to the Burrow? I’d hate for you to have to lug that thing around all day.”

“That sounds lovely.” Hermione hated how formal she sounded, but she couldn’t help the coolness in her voice. Molly clearly didn’t want her staying the week and Hermione refused to give her the satisfaction of being visibly uncomfortable.

Offering Molly the bag, she watched the older woman tap her wand to the material. It disappeared into thin air and Hermione could only hope she hadn’t done something nefarious to the damn thing.

“Come on, Mione, let’s look around,” Ginny prodded, leading her friend away from the uncomfortable silence that fell upon them.

Making their way back into the throng of people, Hermione peered around. The shop was fully stocked with practical joke items and potions she’d never seen before. There was a fountain of love potions that Cormac McLaggen was lurking at, glancing between the purplish concoction and Hermione, an odd expression crossing his features.

Hermione shuddered.

“Merlin, McLaggen is such a creep,” Ginny complained.

They ventured onward, taking in each product. There were some Hermione could envision some of the Death Eaters – and Draco – enjoying. Screaming Yo-Yos would definitely be popular in Malfoy Manor, but Hermione couldn’t begin to imagine Narcissa’s meltdown if she dared to bring one home. Bellatrix would love it; Narcissa would probably strangle her with it.

“Oh, what are those?” Ginny squealed, grabbing Hermione’s arm and dragging her toward a pen of Pygmy Puffs. “Oh, I want one!”

“They are rather cute,” Hermione commented, laughing softly when one of the creatures puffed up into a ball of pink fluff.

“Do you think Mum will –” Ginny was cut off by Harry and Ron hurrying toward them.

“We need to talk,” Harry barked, gripping Hermione’s arm in the same place Ginny had only moments before and hauled her away from the gaping redhead.

Hermione ripped her limb from the boy’s grasp and glared at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What is Malfoy up to?” he demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at the girl who’s been his friend for years. He didn’t want to believe she knew what he was doing, but she _lived_ with him. She had to know _something_.

“What the hell are you talking about, Harry Potter?” Hermione’s expression was one of complete confusion and Harry relaxed.

Hermione wasn’t an imbecile; she and Draco had discussed a plan a few weeks ago, when she first returned to the manor. Her father’s command was clear – and that left them scrambling for ideas. It had been Hermione’s brilliant suggestion of using the vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement, meaning they were in need of its twin, which Greyback had been kind enough to search for.

“Draco ditched Mummy a few minutes ago and skulked into Knockturn Alley with Dolohov and Greyback. We thought maybe you knew but clearly you had no idea,” Harry said apologetically, smiling sheepishly at Hermione.

Hermione’s fists clenched and her gaze narrowed. “You _still_ think I’m going to turn on the Order? Really? Have I not proven myself to you, Harry? I _live_ with a Death Eater, but I am _not_ one. Merlin…”

Utterly guilty, Harry touched Hermione’s arm and silently begged for forgiveness, but she merely shrugged off his hand and stormed away. She hadn’t lied; she wasn’t a Death Eater and she didn’t plan to become one. She would never bear His mark.

That was Draco’s ambition, not hers.

Finding Ginny wasn’t that hard, her attention still on the Pygmy Puffs, though she was now cuddling one to her chest.

“Hermione, look! Mum’s letting me buy one! His name is Albert,” Ginny announced proudly, presenting him to Hermione as though he were some hidden treasure discovered by the youngest Weasley.

“That’s great, Gin.” Hermione forced a smile, eyeing the puffball that was staring back at her.

Ginny’s brows furrowed. “What’s wrong? You look downright _furious_.”

Glancing over her shoulder at Harry and Ron, she murmured, “I’ll tell you back at Burrow.”

“Okay…” Ginny drawled, following Hermione’s line of sight.

_Of course those idiots would say something stupid. Merlin, Harry’s mouth is always getting him into trouble. Why can’t he be_ normal _for five minutes? Must he ruin everything?_

“Is there anything you were wanting to buy before we left?” Ginny inquired, returning her attention to the irate Gryffindor.

Hermione sighed, but the tension drained from her body. “A few things, actually…”

-X-

Hermione quickly learned that sleeping without Bellatrix was nearly impossible. The first two nights she’d tried, but she could only stare up at the ceiling until the sun rose and count the number of number of cracks. She could only manage a few hours once the streams of sunlight flickered through the blinds.

On her third night, she just opted to sit at the window, knees tucked under her chin and a faraway twinkle in her eye.

She wondered what Bellatrix was up to. Was she pouting around the manor? Was she wreaking havoc and being a general pain in the ass? Was she busy helping the Dark Lord? She had so many questions and absolutely no answers.

Humming softly to herself, Hermione stood up from the window seat and wandered out of the room and down the stairs into the kitchen in search of a warm cup of tea. Maybe if she drank a little it would lull her into dreamland.

She was startled by the sight of Tonks sitting at the table, a cup in her hand as candlelight bounced off her soft features. She seemed troubled, a darkness in her eyes that was never really associated with the metamorphous.

“Are you okay, Tonks?” Hermione asked quietly, trying not to frighten her.

Tonks smiled faintly. “Is anyone truly okay these days?”

Laughing humorlessly, Hermione slipped farther into the room. “I guess not.”

There was a silence that fell upon the kitchen. No conversation was passed between them as Hermione moved about, searching for the tea bags she knew Molly used to store.

“Top cabinet,” Tonks offered when Hermione grew irritated.

Nodding appreciatively, Hermione finally found what she was looking for and began boiling water in the nearest teapot.

“Hermione…” Tonks started cautiously, waiting for the younger witch to look at her, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Tonks glanced away, gathering her thoughts. “You live with the Malfoys, so you obviously know my aunts. You know and I know Aunt Bella lives there and I’m willing to bet you probably know her well.”

_More than you know._

“What are they like, my aunts? Mum says they’re cruel, horrible people, but that they weren’t always. She says the war has hardened their hearts, especially since Aunt Bella joined the Death Eaters. Is it true?”

Hermione turned to face Tonks, studying her for a moment. “Why do you ask?”

With a heavy mind, the Auror slowly explained her story; of how Narcissa nursed her back to an acceptable state. How kind her aunt had been to her instead of letting her perish. She admitted she’d been oblivious of Bellatrix being in the room until she appeared from the shadows.

“She said blood is blood, even if it’s muddied,” Tonks mused. “She’s not the monster people say she is, is she? I mean, she’s killed and destroyed lives but if she was truly evil, I’d be dead – right?”

Hermione tilted her head. “You really believe that?”

“Am I barking mad, Hermione? Is she awful? Merlin, I feel like life would be so much easier if I was. Seeing her that night challenged everything I know…” Tonks buried her face in her hands, tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

Walking around the table, Hermione hugged Tonks, stroking her light blue hair. “Bellatrix saved you that night,” she admitted quietly, resting her cheek atop the auror’s head. “When Rodolphus cursed you, we were all terrified we’d never get you to St. Mungos in time. You were bleeding so much,” she choked, “But Bellatrix grabbed another Death Eater and forced him to take you to Narcissa. She wouldn’t let you die, especially not there.

“Bellatrix is a lot of things, but she isn’t heartless. She’s killed and she lives for mayhem, but family is family, even to her. She can be callus and act unfeeling, but she truly isn’t. She feels more than anyone will ever understand. No one besides Narcissa and Bella and your mum would know what it’s like growing up with Cygnus. I’ve heard stories, but _I_ will never know the hell he put them through.”

Tonks sniffled.

“You-Know-Who was the only person who saw Bellatrix as more than a pawn; as more than a trophy for some man. He took her in and gave her the credit and the – albeit twisted – affection she craved. He got her out of Cygnus’ grasp and he turned her into what she is now, but sometimes I think the old Bellatrix – the Bellatrix she once was – is still in there. She just doesn’t know how to reconcile it.”

Leaning back slightly, Tonks watched Hermione thoughtfully. “You sure seem to know a lot about Aunt Bella.”

Flushing, Hermione stepped back and laughed nervously. “You know, I think I don’t really want that tea anymore. I-I think it’s time for bed. G’night, Tonks.”

She scurried over to the stove and flicked it off before hurrying from the room and up the stairs.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More life at the Burrow and the Dark Lord's assignment. My oh my, what can possibly happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Three chapters in two days, I am back! Hopefully you'll stick around for the story and enjoy because I've got my groove back and plenty of ideas to work.

Hermione paled as she straddled the spare broom, staring up at her laughing Quidditch partner.

“You’ll be fine, Hermione,” Ginny assured her, gesturing for her to float up to the others. She’d elected to be on Hermione’s team because the idea of teaming up with Fleur left a sour taste in her mouth. The poor French woman was saddled with Tonks, who was a dreadful flyer, but she made up for it with her witty comments and funny accidents.

She’d considered choosing Tonks, but felt bad for Hermione, so she decided to suck it up and pick her best friend over her crush. The older Gryffindor felt honored.

“This is a terrible idea,” Hermione griped, carefully kicking off the ground and rising to Ginny’s side.

“It’ll be great,” Ginny argued. “It’s just a friendly game.”

Glancing over at their opponents, Hermione’s brows furrowed before she leaned close to Ginny. “Do not purposefully take out Fleur. Try and be _nice_.”

“I will,” the youngest Weasley promised, having to begrudgingly admit Fleur wasn’t so bad.

She’d come to the realization that it wasn’t exactly Fleur’s fault that men fawned over her. Her thrall was always going to be there whether she reined it in or not. And clearly she wasn’t using Bill and he wasn’t actually under her thrall; she really seemed to love him, even though he could be a prat sometimes, and he genuinely cared for her just as much.

And, at the end of the day, she wasn’t conceited – she was confident. Confident in her appearance and herself, confident in her love for Bill…

It was almost admirable.

Tonks wiggled on her broom. “C’mon, you two, let’s play!”

Lining up on the makeshift field, Hermione was impressed by Ginny’s shift in demeanor. Even though it was a playful scrimmage, her focus was entirely on the ball in her hand. She understood why the redhead made the Quidditch team every year and had become Harry’s second-in-command.

She was fierce.

Hermione idled in front of the goals, eyeing the ball warily. She didn’t want to play keeper, but here she was, directly in the line of fire. She wasn’t going to block a damn thing, so why she was here was beyond her.

Tonks flew between the three goals, a gleeful expression crossing her fair features.

“Why is eet that you get ze Quaffle first?” Fleur inquired, locking gazes with Ginny.

“My house, my rules,” Ginny smirked cheekily, though without malice.

Fleur laughed and for a moment Hermione could understand _why_ men swooned whenever Fleur was around. Her laughter was infection and quite melodic. “Let us begin, yes?”

“Let’s.”

The battle commenced, both women intent on winning. Ginny was mildly impressed by Fleur’s Quidditch prowess; she hadn’t expected the somewhat prissy woman to be very versed, but she was keeping Ginny on her toes. She wasn’t nearly as good as Ginny, but she was still a worthy competitor.

Surprisingly, Hermione managed to block a few throws, but most of them still went through their intended targets. She wasn’t going to risk a limb just so Ginny could have bragging rights. It was utterly hilarious to watch Tonks try and play keeper. She nearly managed to tumble off her broom multiple times, but her giggles signaled that she was absolutely fine with her near falls.

It was a fun time – and Hermione was so glad she came to the Burrow.

-X-

“Merlin, I’m so sore,” the older Gryffindor moaned, flopping down on her cot.

Laughing, Ginny hopped onto her bed and stared at her groaning friend. “You’re dramatic.”

“You sound like Bella,” Hermione grumbled, half-heartedly glaring at the giggling girl.

“How _is_ all of that going?”

Hermione couldn’t contain her grin. “It’s going really well. We visited Mother’s manor last month. It’s lovely.”

“That’s nice.” Ginny was still a little uncomfortable thinking of Bellatrix as anything other than the monster the Order ranted about, but she was trying. All she wanted for Hermione was happiness and if that meant the oldest Black, then so be it.

Hermione rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her hand. “How is _your_ situation going?”

Grunting, Ginny slammed onto her back and glared up at the ceiling. “It’s a clusterfuck, honestly.  We had a heartfelt conversation near the beginning of the summer but we don’t really spend a lot of time together alone. I catch her looking at me funny, but I can’t _ask_ her about it because if I’m wrong, that’ll be the most embarrassing moment of my life. Which, I am probably wrong because there’s no way a nineteen year old auror would see me as anything other than some stupid kid and gah!”

“Gin…”

“I wish I was older,” Ginny admitted. “I wish I was your age. I wish I was sixteen and almost of age. I wish there was some way that this wasn’t weird. A three year difference wouldn’t be so terrible, right?”

Hermione hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “In the United States, quite a few states consider it legal to date someone four years older than you.”

Ginny perked up. “Really?”

“So, maybe it’s not quite as weird as you think. The age gap is a little odd, but I’d be a hypocrite if I dared to judge you. Nothing is happening right now, but don’t throw in the towel. You’ve got plenty of time to see if it’ll go anywhere.”

“Throw in the towel?” Ginny’s brow arched.

Hermione chuckled. “It’s a muggle phrase.”

“How big _is_ the gap for you guys? I mean, isn’t she like forty?” Ginny wondered, picking at the dead skin around her nails.

“Forty-four,” Hermione corrected with a shrug.

“Wow.”

“You’d never know it when we’re together, though,” Hermione continued.

Ginny laughed. “So she isn’t all broody and old like Mum and Dad are sometimes?”

“No,” Hermione smirked. “Not at all.”

Ginny paused, glancing back up at Hermione. “I really want you to know I’m happy for you. You seem way more cheerful than you used to be. She’s really good for you.”

“It’s not just her. It’s you and Draco and Neville and Luna too. You guys have given me the family I never realized I was missing and I will never be able to express how much you all mean to me. This _friendship_ makes me happy.”

Tears gathered in Ginny’s eyes and she slipped off the bed, throwing her arms around Hermione’s shoulders. No words were spoken; none were needed.

-X-

The fifth night found Hermione sitting at the dining table, an untouched glass of milk taunting her from its place in front of her. She’d avoided the kitchen the night before, terrified she’d bump into the metamorphmagus again but she was so, _so_ tired of staring at Ginny’s ceiling.

A quiet thump of feet on stairs dragged her from her thoughts. Inhaling deeply, she listened, hoping the steps belonged to someone other than Tonks. The sound of the person stumbling off the final step dashed her dreams against the rocks.

“Bloody hell,” Tonks hissed, hobbling into the dining room, halting when she noticed Hermione. “Wotcher, Hermione.”

Hermione waved, her attention never straying from the condensation rolling down the glass. Maybe if she didn’t look at Tonks, Tonks wouldn’t ask questions Hermione couldn’t answer.

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Freezing, Hermione’s eyes widened in terror. Could nothing go the way she needed it to? How was she supposed to answer? What was she supposed to do? Deny she loved Bellatrix? The mere notion made her stomach tangle in disgust. She’d never denied it before…

Playing dumb, Hermione glanced up from the glass. “I’m not in love with Ginny. She’s my best friend, but I couldn’t…”

Tonks’ brow arched high, disbelief painted across her features. “I’m not talking about Ginny, Hermione.”

Sighing in defeat, Hermione’s gaze returned to the glass. “You must think I’m crazy, don’t you? Falling in love with a mass murderer.”

Tonks’ face scrunched up thoughtfully and she moved to sit across from Hermione, hands folded as she took in the younger witch. “Is she salvageable?”

“She isn’t a broken toy,” Hermione replied diplomatically, not really giving an answer either way. She wasn’t sure she _wanted_ to save Bellatrix; she wouldn’t be the woman Hermione had fallen in love with if she changed.

Silence overcame them for a few minutes, but eventually Tonks spoke up.

“I can’t fault you for who you love,” she finally said, peering at her fingers. “Sometimes our hearts just decide for us.”

Hermione peeked over the rim of her cup. “Why do I have the feeling we aren’t talking about me anymore?”

A sob ripped its way out of Tonks’ throat and she buried her head in her hands.

-X-

“Ugh,” Ginny rolled over in her bed, bleary green eyes cracking open to take in the darkened room. She could just barely make out the cot across the room and frowned.

_Hermione, where are you?_

Swallowing dryly, Ginny carefully inched off her bed and padded out of the room. She could hear hushed chatter in the dining room and ventured down the stairs, stopping on the last when she noticed Tonks with her head in her hands and Hermione sitting across from her, concern written on her face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hermione offered kindly. “Whatever you say stays between us and I won’t judge you.”

Ginny lowered herself onto the landing and tucked her knees to her chest, encircling her arms around them. She knew it was wrong to listen in on a private conversation, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted – no, _needed_ – to know.

“I have feelings for someone I _really_ shouldn’t.” Tonks paused. “Actually, I don’t know what I have. I don’t know if they’re romantic or if it’s just admiration. She’s wonderful and so strong, but Merlin, she’s young - younger than me, anyways. She’s been through so much, though, and no one gives her enough credit, but she’s gone through more in the last five years than I’ve been through in my _entire_ life and…” she trailed off before she started rambling.

Hermione smiled patiently. “Ginny is pretty great, isn’t she?”

Tonks was stunned and Ginny could imagine her eyes wide with alarm. “W-what are you talking about?”

Hermione tilted her head knowingly, frowning when tears pooled in Tonks’ eyes.

“Merlin, I’m disgusting, aren’t I?” Tonks cried, the tears trickling down her flushed face in streams.

Ginny pressed her cheek to the top of her knee, the tightness in her chest slowly crushing her heart into nothing but dust. She’d been so caught up in her problems that she’d never realized how hard it must have been for Tonks to come to terms with having some form of feelings for her. She wasn’t alone in this dilemma – and that broke her heart _for_ Tonks.

Hermione pursed her lips. “You aren’t disgusting, Tonks. The fact you’re having such issues with this _proves_ that.”

“What do I do?” Tonks whispered, wiping the wet trails from her cheeks.

“You don’t do anything,” Hermione advised confidently, ignoring the two looks shot in her direction: one of confusion from Tonks and one of absolute fury from Ginny. “You don’t _have_ to do anything right now, Tonks. You have time to figure out your feelings, you have time for her to get a little older, you have time to learn about each other. _You have time_.

“Everyone seems to think there’s some time crunch because You-Know-Who is back, but truthfully, there isn’t. Not yet. You’re allowed to find out what you want; rushing things will only hurt you both. If you take the time to understand yourself and your feelings, then you’ll make the right choice. _Both_ of you will.”

Hermione glared over her shoulder at Ginny. She wasn’t deaf nor was she stupid. She’d heard the youngest Weasley stop on the stairs the moment she arrived.

Ginny, properly chastised, glanced away from Hermione’s heated gaze.

“Do you really believe that?” Tonks wondered, tapping her fingers along the wooden surface of the table.

“I _really_ do, Tonks. You can’t commit to something if you don’t know what you really want.”

Swallowing dryly, Tonks nodded. “Thank you for listening to me, Hermione. I’ve really needed someone to and obviously I can’t talk to anyone here about it.”

Hermione laughed. “Yeah, I cannot imagine that conversation going well.”

Smiling for the first time since they’d started talking, Tonks stood up from her seat and rounded the table, hugging Hermione. She was completely oblivious to the redhead on the stairs, giving Ginny ample time to bolt back up to her bedroom.

“Aunt Bella is really lucky to have you,” Tonks remarked, releasing the Gryffindor from her embrace.

“Thanks, Tonks…”

“Get some sleep,” Tonks advised, walking out of the room. “It’s not good to stay up all night, even if you are a teenager.”

Laughing, Hermione sipped her milk and smiled at Tonks’ back.

 _She’s a good woman. She’d be good for Ginny._ Her smile faded. _I hope everything works out for them. I hope I was_ right.

-X-

Ginny and Hermione didn’t speak about the conversation Ginny had overheard. There was an unspoken agreement that it wouldn’t be discussed and that was fine with both parties. It had given Ginny plenty to think about and that’s what mattered.

On Hermione’s second to last day, O.W.L results arrived to the Burrow for Ron and Harry. They’d been rather absent throughout her visit, but she wasn’t going to complain. The less she had to pretend to appreciate their company the better.

“How’d you do?” Hermione wondered, peering over Harry’s shoulder.

Out of his nine O.W.Ls, he only had two failing grades. She wasn’t too surprised he’d failed History of Magic nor was she surprised he’d passed Defense Against the Dark Arts with an O. Ron had zero O’s and Hermione couldn’t contain her grin.

She’d taken ten O.W.Ls total and she was almost certain all of her grades were O’s.

“I’m so proud of you, Ronald!” Molly praised, ruffling her son’s hair.

The Weasley boy beamed, staring at his paper with wide eyes. He had managed to pass the _majority_ of his O.W.Ls and that was an accomplishment for him.

“I’m willing to bet you got all O’s,” Ginny mumbled in Hermione’s ear, eyeing the two chatting boys still clutching their letters.

“Probably,” Hermione agreed with a low chuckle.

Molly watched them with critical eyes. “Hermione, can I speak to you for a moment?”

Hermione and Ginny shared a look, but the older nodded. “Of course, Mrs. Weasley.”

“If she tries to kill you, give me a signal and I’ll come save you,” Ginny whispered as Hermione walked away, laughing at the eye roll Hermione offered in return.

Hermione followed the older woman out of the Burrow and onto the porch overlooking the field. During the day it was quite a lovely sight. She liked it far better than Grimmauld Place. It had been such a depressing home with Kreacher stalking about and Mrs. Black’s picture screeching whenever someone disturbed her.

Molly cleared her throat. “I feel like I should apologize to you, Hermione.”

“Mrs. Weasley…”

“No, let me wish,” Molly pleaded, “I was wrong. I should have never judged you for your family’s crimes and I shouldn’t have treated you so badly after Christmas. It wasn’t right, banning you from Grimmauld Place. You’ve never done _anything_ to hurt us and you’d never put the Order in danger and I should have remembered that. You’ve done nothing but protect my children since I’ve known you. Us turning our backs on you sent you into the arms of the _Malfoys_ ,” she spat the name as though it were acid on her tongue, “And I’m so sorry for that. But, I hope with time, you can learn to forgive us and trust us again. I know Ron has missed you dearly, even if my pigheaded son hasn’t admitted it.”

Hermione balked.

 _Is she trying to hint that Ronald and I should…?_ She shuddered.

“Attacking you was his way of dealing with the news and – I’m not defending him – but maybe you two could become close again. It would do you both a lot of good,” Molly suggested, oblivious to Hermione’s revulsion at the mere _idea_ of her and Ron.

Hermione nodded, hoping the conversation would come to a close faster that way. “Well, I accept your apology, Mrs. Weasley. I was terribly hurt, but I can understand your reactions. It was a lot of information to take in.”

“Good!” Molly smiled, embracing the Gryffindor. “I’m glad that’s settled. Now, why don’t we go see what the children have gotten into and make some lunch?”

“I’ll come inside in a moment,” Hermione replied, tugging out of the hug when the moment passed.

Watching Molly saunter back into the Burrow, Hermione’s lips curled into a frown. She didn’t trust a word she’d said; the Order never admitted to their mistakes. They just made more trying to cover them up. She only hoped whatever they were planning wouldn’t cause any irreparable damage.

If it did, she’d kill them all.

 _I swear it_.

-X-

Bellatrix stood before the Dark Lord, head bowed respectfully as he lounged in the study chair.

“As you know, before Hermione left I told you there was a mission you, and you alone, must carry out for me – and the time has come. Greyback has collected Mr. Ollivander for me and I had hoped the bloody fool would tell me what I wish to know, but alas, he is stupidly _brave_. So now I require you to find what it is I need.”

“May I ask what you need, my Lord?” Bellatrix inquired, glancing up at the man.

The Dark Lord smiled, his reptilian eyes flitting over her. “Have you heard of the tales of the Deathly Hallows?”

“Of course, my Lord. Most purebloods know the tales, but they are just fables, are they not?”

Laughing humorlessly, he shook his head. “No, dear one, they are not. They do, in fact, exist. Our friend Mister Potter has one of them, if I’m not mistaken. But, what he possesses is not what I want. Mr. Ollivander knows where the Elder Wand is - knows who is in possession of it – but has chosen not to divulge the information I seek, so now it is up to you.

“You will go to Ollivander’s shop and scour it; see if you can uncover what I need to know. I do not think it is in his shop, so you will not be punished if you cannot find it but see what you can learn. However, if it is there and you miss it, I will be _very_ displeased, so do be dillegent.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Bellatrix nodded. “I shall go at nightfall.”

“Do not tell anyone of this, even my daughter. This shall stay between us until I see it fit for anyone else to know,” he warned, narrowing his crimson gaze into a glare. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Bellatrix’s stomach. She hated the idea of keeping something from Hermione – from her _soulmate_ – but she couldn’t refuse the Dark Lord. She was his most loyal. She couldn’t break that command.

Could she?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An apology? from Ron and another dream. Can Hermione not catch a break?

The night before Hermione was set to return to Malfoy Manor, Hermione was beside Ginny on her bed, helping the youngest Weasley pour over the new term's texts and tomes that they'd bought during the day. She was knee to knee with Ginny, head bowed as the redhead read through the first chapters, answering any questions she posed.

It was nice being friends with someone who'd already taken the classes before, Ginny had quickly realized.

"When are you buying all your books? The Hermione I know would've bought hers weeks ago," Ginny joked, nudging the older Gryffindor while her emerald gaze skirted across the pages disinterestedly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Draco and I shall be gathering ours tomorrow when he meets me in Diagon Alley."

A solid knock on Ginny's doorframe halted any response and both girls glanced up. Ron was leaning against the frame, an odd expression on his face that left Hermione wary and distrustful.

"Hey, Ginny, can you give me and Mione a minute?" Ron asked, but his tone held no room for argument, serving to only infuriate Ginny.

"It's my room!" she snapped back, slamming the book on her lap closed.

"Gin," he barked, glaring at his sister.

For a moment, Ginny's mind flashed to simpler times; before the fear of the new Wizarding War had sunk its claws into her family, before Ron became Harry's right hand and was still her _brother_. When they were younger, he treated her like a princess – a rowdy, rough-and-tumble, get down in the dirt princess – but he still acted like she was his _sister_ and not some _stranger_. He'd changed so much since he started Hogwarts and none of those changes were good.

Maybe she wasn't the stranger…

Maybe he was.

Hermione gripped Ginny's arm and squeezed reassuringly. "It'll be okay, Gin. Give us a minute?"

Ginny studied Hermione critically, eventually rising from the bed and leaving the room, but not before shoulder checking her brother on the way out. Standing awkwardly at the door, Ron watched Ginny leave before locking eyes with Hermione. They assessed each other in silence, the tension thicker than a Devil's Snare vine. He was just as uncomfortable as she was.

"Is something wrong, Ron?" Hermione finally asked, the stillness between them too much.

"No…" he paused. "Yes. I don't know."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Hermione quirked a brow, "What's wrong?"

"Mum told me I should apologize to you," Ron admitted, glancing away from the Gryffindor. "And I guess she's right. I shouldn't have attacked you last year. I was angry, but I reckon I shouldn't have lashed out at you. It's not your fault your dad is the evilest man in the world. But you should have told us when you found out."

Hermione's blood bubbled from a low roar to threatening to boil over. He had the nerve to blame _her_ for _his_ actions? He harassed her for weeks and he had the balls to…

Biting back a nasty retort, Hermione only stared at him with narrowed eyes.

Completely oblivious to her rage, he continued, "But it was wrong and I shouldn't have done it. Listening to Lavender was a bad idea, so I'm sorry."

"Okay," Hermione replied through gritted teeth, her fists clenched at her sides.

Slipping deeper into the room, Ron joined Hermione on the bed, his hands clasped in front of him. "I know everything is screwed up, but maybe we can go back to how things were. Y'know, me not studying, you nagging us to do our work and saving our asses from whatever Harry drags us into, and Harry running headfirst into danger. We need each other."

Hermione bit her lip so hard she could taste blood on her tongue, trying valiantly not to wring Ron's neck. How could he expect her to forget everything he'd put her through? They'd thrown her beneath the bus the moment she did something they didn't like – something she couldn't control. Despite his belief, she absolutely did _not_ need them.

They needed her; there was a difference.

Undeterred by her silence, he smiled hopefully at her and stood from the bed. "Me and Harry are playing Wizard's Chess if you want to come down and watch. He's won twice but I really think I've got this next game. He can't win three times in a row, right?"

He left the room, a confident swagger in his step that made Hermione want to chunk Ginny's books at his head. She wished she was surprised by his actions and demeanor, but she wasn't. Only he would believe that was a suitable apology.

-X-

Ginny's bone-crushing hug jostled Hermione, causing her to burst out laughing and drop her bags. Her arms wrapped around the lanky teen. "I'll see you in three weeks, Gin, it's not like I'm disappearing into the jungle for years."

"I know but you're leaving me here alone with _them_ ," Ginny whined, glancing over her shoulder at the waving pair Hermione once called brothers.

"It'll be okay," Hermione promised, releasing the younger girl. "But _try_ to stay out of trouble."

Ginny smirked. "Never."

Laughing, Hermione gathered her bag and slipped into the floo, waving stiffly to Harry and Ron. She'd undoubtedly enjoyed her week with the Weasleys – well, enjoyed spending time with Ginny and Fleur and Tonks – but she wouldn't lie. She was extremely happy to be going home.

Oh Merlin how she had missed Bella.

The world spun for a moment and Hermione appeared in Diagon Alley, the dreary nature of the once thriving alley tugging at her heartstrings. She knew her father was behind the closing of the shops, whether indirectly or not she couldn't be sure. She was also pretty sure he was the reason for Mr. Ollivander's disappearance but she didn't want confirmation; it was best not to know.

She was greeted to the sight of Narcissa and Draco waiting for her, Draco's beaming smile warming whatever chill that had settled in her chest. He looked paler than she remembered, the bruised circles beneath his eyes darker than ever.

Narcissa wasn't looking much better. Dressed immaculately as always, her fair features were gaunt and her ocean eyes duller than Hermione had ever seen. Her lips were lifted in a thin smile, exhaustion oozing from her pores.

Hermione was bloody concerned.

"Hermione!" Draco swept her up into his arms and spun around, laughing as Hermione shrieked.

"Put me down, you brute!" Hermione giggled, slapping his shoulder repeatedly until he finally set her on the ground.

Narcissa's smile became a bit more genuine and she snapped her fingers, Hermione's bag lifting from the ground. "I shall take this back to the manor. Shall we meet at Madam Malkin's in about two hours? You will both need new robes before the start of the term. You've both grown so much in the last few months."

"They're still open?" Hermione inquired, linking arms with Draco.

Draco nodded. "We should go to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour afterward," he suggested.

Narcissa swallowed harshly. "I don't believe that is possible today, Draco."

Pausing, Draco studied his fidgeting mother. She never fidgeted; she was far too poised and collected for that. "Mr. Florean too?"

Her sigh was the only answer he needed.

"Oh." Draco licked his lips. "Well, we should go to Flourish and Blotts after we get our robes. I'd like to get a jump on my studies. If this is to be our last year, then we need to know as much as possible."

"That's a good idea," Narcissa agreed.

Strolling arm-in-arm through Diagon Alley, Hermione sighed. "What should I get Bella for her birthday? It's next week and I cannot think of anything to buy her. Whenever I've asked, she just laughs and says me."

Draco hummed thoughtfully. "As weird as it for me to say, have you thought of buying lingerie?"

"For her?"

Rolling his eyes, Draco shook his head. "No. Buy lingerie for you and wear it for _her_. If all she wants for her birthday is you, then give her you."

Hermione blinked. "I didn't think of that." Her lips quirked up into a smirk. "This is such an uncomfortable conversation for you, isn't it?"

"You have _no_ idea," he shuddered.

Chuckling, Hermione tugged him toward Twilfitt and Tatting's. "Well, you're about to be even more uncomfortable."

"Oh no, no, no," he dug his heels into the pavement, "I am _not_ helping you find lingerie for Aunt Bella. That's too far."

Hermione arched a brow. "I'm not asking you to judge how it looks on me. I just need help picking a color. I can absolutely take care of the rest."

Sighing, Draco allowed Hermione to drag him toward the shop. "Fine. But you owe me."

"I promise, whenever you want to buy sexy underwear for Luna, I'll help you pick something out."

She let out a cackle and raced toward the shop, Draco right on her heels.

-X-

Hermione was content with her purchase. It'd only taken her a few minutes to find the perfect outfit; even Draco thought so. If all she wanted was Hermione for her birthday, then Hermione was going to make sure she wrapped this present up really well.

When they left, Draco directed them toward Knockturn Alley, heading in the direction of Borgin and Burkes, a confidence in his step.

"Harry and Ronald saw you in there last week," Hermione said conversationally, eyeing her companion.

"I was simply buying a new Hand of Glory," he replied calmly, shooting her a cheeky grin.

Hermione smirked. "Of course you did. Did you take care of everything else?"

"Of course," Draco responded, mildly offended at the implication he hadn't. "But I may have found a solution for our problems."

Hermione paused, a gross feeling settling in the pit of her belly. She knew what he was talking about - their _mission_. The Dark Lord's plot to have Dumbledore murdered – by _them_.

The thought of murdering someone – even him – was a thought she still couldn't stomach. Of all the things she'd seen and done in the last six years, she'd never had another's blood on her hands; had never taken someone's life. She'd broken a man out of prison – an offense that couldn't left _her_ in his place had she been caught -, helped save Buckbeak from utter demise, and stared down Death Eaters, but she'd never, _never_ killed someone.

Draco watched the color drain from her face. "Are you okay?"

Hermione swallowed the bile rising in her throat, trying to keep from throwing up the lovely lunch Mrs. Weasley had fed her before she left.

"Hey, it'll be okay," Draco soothed, patting Hermione's shoulder. "I have a plan."

Breathing deeply, Hermione nodded and followed him into Borgin and Burkes. She peered about the drab store, taking in the newest items sitting proudly on their shelves. They ventured toward the back of the store, coming to stand in front of a large cabinet.

"This is it?" Hermione clarified, running her hand along the door.

"This is it. Our friend Mr. Borgin shall be repairing this one for us while we're away at Hogwarts. He has already been informed Antonin and Greyback will be coming by _frequently_ to check on his progress." He shot a pointed look at the man slowly creeping towards them. "Isn't that right, Mr. Borgin?"

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," he agreed, eyes downcast and narrowed. He didn't appreciate being bossed around by a _child_ but he also wished to keep his life.

"Good. We have one more piece of business to conduct then we shall be on our way." Draco moved to the case housing jewelry and pointed at an opal necklace. "I need to purchase that."

Mr. Borgin balked. "Sir, do you know…?"

Draco cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I know the history on this necklace. I want it."

Mr. Borgin sputtered. "I cannot in good conscious sell this to someone so young."

"When have you ever had a good conscious?" Draco snapped, glaring at the ever-cowering man. "I wish to purchase this. Do not make me have to come back with my father," his lips curled up into a sneer, "Or my aunt. She isn't pleasant when I - or my companion here - are denied."

Blanching, Mr. Borgin hesitantly reached for the necklace, careful not to touch the necklace itself, only its wrappings. Bundling it up, he tied the string tightly and set it on the counter.

"1500 galleons," he muttered, accepting the offered coins Draco had already prepared.

Draco gingerly lifted the package. "Good day, Mr. Borgin."

The pair sauntered out of the shop, the wrapped jewelry held mindfully under Draco's arm. He wasn't going to make the mistake of touching the cursed item, but he needed to keep it as hidden as possible.

"Hermione, slip this in your bag," Draco instructed, bringing them to a halt, "But under no circumstances do you touch the necklace. Only the wrappings."

Hermione's brow arched, but she did as she was told and slid the package into her bag. "What _is_ this thing, exactly?"

"I'll explain later," he promised, spotting his mother in front of Mrs. Malkin's as they returned to Diagonal Alley.

Narcissa eyed them suspiciously, but said nothing. She merely herded them into the store, letting the door swing closed behind her.

-X-

After finishing their shopping for supplies and robes, Hermione handed her things to Draco before they apparated to the manor. She had a feeling the moment they arrived, she'd be whisked away by her exuberant lover. If she was honest, she was far too tired to really participate in the wild passion Bellatrix offered, but she'd also dearly missed it.

Appearing in the foyer of the manor, Hermione was proven correct as she was swept up in the whirlwind that was entirely _Bella._ A desperate kiss captured her lips and she couldn't do anything but moan and tangle her fingers in inky curls.

Dolohov whistled at them from the third floor landing, earning himself a dirty gesture from Bellatrix and a heated blush from the younger woman. She buried her face in Bellatrix's neck and closed her eyes, breathing in the spicy, unique scent of her girlfriend.

"I'm so glad you're home," Bellatrix murmured, kissing the side of Hermione's head, tightening her grip on Hermione's waist.

"Me too," Hermione confessed, kissing Bellatrix's pounding pulse point.

A familiar tug tilted Hermione's world for a moment and she closed her eyes tight. She hated apparation, but she'd grown used to it.

"I love you," Bellatrix whispered, almost afraid to break the tranquility that'd fallen over them as they just took each other in. She'd missed her lover more than she felt comfortable admitting. She'd slept maybe two hours a night since Hermione had left and it was torturous.

Warm and wrapped up in Bellatrix's arms, Hermione yawned, fatigue finally taking hold of her.

"Are you tired, love?" Bellatrix asked, stroking Hermione's hair soothingly.

Hermione hummed affirmatively. Her body was already sagging into Bellatrix's, her exhaustion bone deep.

"Let's take a nap," the older witch suggested, leading Hermione over to the bed. She carefully stripped her swaying, tired lover. She did it almost clinically, ignoring the brief burst of want settling in her lower extremities. Hermione's wellbeing and happiness came first; her desire could be quenched later, after they slept.

Stroking her hands along naked hips, Bellatrix helped Hermione onto their bed and situated the covers around her. Tucking her in, the former Slytherin stared down at her already passed out lover. She brushed a stray lock from Hermione's face and bent over, pressing a kiss to Hermione's forehead. Hurriedly stripping out of her own clothes, she crawled in behind Hermione and tossed an arm around her waist, bringing her closer so Hermione's back was flush against her front.

Hermione made a noise of contentment and snuggled closer, light snores escaping parted lips. Bellatrix chuckled silently and followed Hermione into slumber.

-X-

I've been here before, _Hermione realized, standing on the edge of a cliff._

_She remembered the sound of crashing waves and the taste of salt in the air. The uneasy silence of the world around her still left a nasty twist in the pit of her stomach._

_She tried to move - to inch away from the rocky side - but she discovered rather immediately that she couldn't move. It was as though her body was weighed down by concrete blocks, keeping her immobile and making her limbs feel a hundred pounds heavier._

Well, this is unfortunate, _she grunted mentally, trying not to panic at her lack of mobility. There was something fear-inducing about being trapped in her own dream. If she couldn't control her own mind, what_ could _she?_

_She stared out into the void of rushing water. Wind whipped her hair about and she could've swore she could feel each brief sting of the strands making contact with her flushed skin. Chill bumps covered her arms, the cool temperature of the night creating minute shudders down her spine._

_The sound of footsteps behind her startled her and if she could've tensed, she would have. She was positive it wasn't Bella; they'd never shared dreams before and she couldn't imagine feeling so nervous if it were her lover. Besides, these steps were heavy - and Bella's were almost always silent._

_They had to be._

_Without permission, her body slowly turned and she came to face a man she'd never seen before. He was dressed in muggle armor, a sword bright with fire lighting his figure. He held himself with an air of authority, but not one of arrogance._

_"Destiny guides you, Daughter of Darkness," he spoke, walking towards her, sword dangling from his fingertips._

_"W-who are you?" Hermione demanded, wincing at the crack in her voice._

_"But it does not define you," he continued, as though she hadn't said a word. "Taken to a world not your own, you are left scrambling for answers you shall not find yet. Your plight is saddening, but it has made you strong. You are stronger than you understand."_

_Hermione blinked. How could this stranger know so much about her when she was certain she'd never met him before?_

_"You have a choice to make, child, but you cannot choose unless you know what hangs in the balance. Worlds lay at your feet. You - and you alone - must decide what becomes of them. When the time comes, your choices shall shape a new future; a brighter future."_

_He stopped only a few feet from her._

_"But you must not trust wolves in sheep's clothing. They mean only to destroy you and what you are to accomplish. Keep those who matter most close, but watch out for those creeping in the darkness, playing puppet-master. They mean only lead you astray. Protect yourself from their games and your path will present itself."_

_He pointed the sword at her, the blade burning brighter than before. She could feel the heat nearing her cheek and flinched away, thankful when he finally lowered it._

_"You are not worthy yet," he continued, "But you will be. You will create life, but you must also take it. The road you travel is hard fought and seems never-ending, but your victories will be sung by all. Do not forget where you've come from and what you've been through. You are your blood, but you're more than that too."_

_He slowly began to vanish, a parting message ringing clear into the night._

_"Your story is just beginning, child. Do not let others write the pages for you."_


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five chapters in like a week... I'm totally proud of myself. Now, I'm not going to lie, there was supposed to be more smut but a part of me couldn't bring myself to add more. It seemed like a good place to stop. Hermione's dark side has been touched on briefly here and there, but I want to really start to delve deeper into it.

Two weeks.

All she had left with her lover before returning to school was two weeks and the notion left her ill. She wasn't prepared to leave, how could she be? It was evident she couldn't sleep without being wrapped up in Bellatrix's arms if her week away from the manor was any example and the idea of going _months_ without seeing Bellatrix's face had made her gag on numerous occasions.

After waking up in a cold sweat after that chilling dream a week ago, Hermione hadn't really left Bellatrix's side. They only parted ways when Bellatrix was needed by the Dark Lord or when Draco wanted to duel one-on-one. She wasn't sure why, but the need to cling to her lover overpowered all common sense; if it were possible, she would have glued herself to Bellatrix's side.

Currently, she and Draco were locked in an intense battle of wills, sweat pouring from their bodies as spells bounced off shields and into Narcissa's bushes and hedges. Honestly, Hermione was surprised they hadn't managed to completely _destroy_ her garden yet, but it always seemed to withstand their magical endeavors.

 _I wonder if she charmed them to stay intact,_ Hermione mused.

Draco rushing toward her pulled her from her thoughts and without hesitation, Hermione sent him flying backwards onto his back. He grunted on impact, but was quick to his feet. "Nice shot."

Smirking cheekily, Hermione gave a mocking bow.

"Impressive," Bellatrix praised from her hiding spot behind a charred tree, having snuck up on the dueling pair. She'd come looking for her lover, but stopped herself from calling out when she caught sight of them battling – truly battling – as though their lives depended on it. She was quite proud. "But do not let your ego get the best of you. A spell is only as good as its follow-up."

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Hermione trudged over to Bellatrix and embraced the older woman. Bellatrix's nose crinkled, but she returned the hug.

"You smell," Bellatrix informed her, smiling at the offended glance Hermione shot her.

"You try dueling for nearly an hour and see how you smell afterward," Hermione retorted, glaring playfully at her lover.

Laughing, Bellatrix released her girlfriend and swatted her on the butt. "Go bathe. Dinner will be ready soon and I doubt Cissy would appreciate two smelly teenagers at her table."

"Are you going to join me?" Hermione purred, the desire evident in her gaze as she let her eyes roam over Bellatrix. She loved her corsets; they clung deliciously to her curves and always left Hermione in a slight state of arousal.

"Not this time, love," Bellatrix sighed, ignoring Hermione's pout. "I have a few things I must discuss with Greyback before dinner."

Hermione's pout deepened, but she nodded in understanding. "Fine, but you owe me a bath."

Winking, Bellatrix replied, "Deal."

Content with her answer, Hermione and Draco started back towards the manor. Hermione's shirt was torn and she briefly wondered if Narcissa could mend it. It was a relatively nice shirt and she didn't want to throw it out.

"You are such a horndog," Draco commented, laughing at the startled expression of his friend. "I learned that statement from a mudblood. Did I use it correctly?"

Nodding, Hermione peered at her companion. "Since when do you talk to muggleborns?"

"I don't," he admitted, "But I overheard a few talking and gathered from the conversation what they were implying."

Venturing through the door, Hermione spotted Narcissa chatting inaudibly with Severus and veered off toward her.

"Narcissa," Hermione called as she neared them, "I have a favor to ask of you."

Narcissa looked at the young woman and smiled. "Yes?"

Fingering the hole in her shirt, Hermione grinned hopefully. "Would you mind mending my shirt? You are far better at it than I am."

"Of course." Narcissa patted her arm. "Give it to the house elves after you've bathed and they shall bring it to me once it's washed."

"Thank you." She studied the woman for a moment. If she were standing with anyone other than Snape Hermione would've waited to ask, but she trusted the man with her life. "Did you try out those recipes I gave you?"

Narcissa swallowed. She'd hoped that Hermione wouldn't inquire about them; she hated having to lie to the young woman who'd been lied to her entire life. She didn't want to be another deceiver in her already complicated world. "They didn't pan out. I'm sorry."

Hermione deflated. "Oh."

Had she not glanced up when she did, she would've missed the disapproving look Snape gave Narcissa. His expression said everything and Hermione knew Narcissa had lied to her. She was disappointed, but Hermione was certain she must have had a reason. She didn't want to believe the woman would lie just for the sake of lying.

Ignoring the pang of betrayal in her heart, Hermione nodded. "That's depressing. Thank you for trying a few of them anyways."

The guilt splashed across Narcissa's features told her what she already knew. "It was no problem, sweetheart."

Strolling away and up the stairs, Hermione discretely peeked over her shoulder and watched Snape chide the older woman. He clearly wasn't amused with her deception and he was letting her know how much.

_I'm so very grateful for you, Severus Snape._

-X-

The day of Bellatrix's birthday, Hermione awoke to soft lips trailing along her neck and a hand slowly working on the buttons of her night shirt. She giggled at the gentle nip to her collarbone, tangling her fingers in Bellatrix's hair and scratching her nails along her scalp.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded teasingly, her laughter turning to quiet moans as nimble fingers inched across her skin toward hardening nipples.

"Enjoying what's about to hopefully be my breakfast?" Bellatrix replied innocently, dark eyes wide and full of anticipation.

Hermione pressed a firm kiss to Bellatrix's lips, sliding her tongue into her eager mouth. Slick muscles tangled together in a well-practiced dance, Hermione eventually succumbing to Bellatrix's dominance.

"Do you trust me?" Hermione murmured against her mouth, playfully flicking her tongue over a full bottom lip.

"With my life," Bellatrix instantly replied, pulling back slightly to stare seriously at her lover.

Cupping her cheek, Hermione kissed Bellatrix chastely. "Then will you wait until tonight to continue this? I'll make it worth your while, I promise."

Bellatrix deliberated the request for a moment before nodding. "Anything for you, darling."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled, tugging at the older woman's hair until she rested her head against Hermione's shoulder. She combed her fingers through wild curls and closed her eyes. "Happy birthday, my love."

Bellatrix hummed, nuzzling the side of Hermione's neck. She wasn't sure why she enjoyed doing that so much; maybe it was because of her animagus. Maybe it was because she so did love the way Hermione smelled. Maybe it was just because she was happy.

She'd never really know…

And that was okay.

"We should get up," Hermione suggested, "I'm sure Narcissa has a breakfast fit for a king waiting for you."

Bellatrix groaned pathetically. "I don't want to. Can't we just lay in bed all day?"

"I don't think so," Hermione chuckled, stroking down Bellatrix's back.

Coaxing Bellatrix from their bed was harder than Hermione anticipated, but once her lover was dressed for the day, the pair made their way into the dining room. She was right – platters of food greeted them, along with five smiling faces and Snape's typical somber expression.

Lucius was settled at the head of the table with Narcissa on his right and Draco to his left with Greyback and Dolohov directly across from the chairs left empty for the couple. They were the only two allowed to stay for breakfast; Bellatrix would never admit it but they were slowly becoming her closest allies. Snape was at the bottom of the table, a bit of a distance between Greyback and himself. He wasn't the greatest fan of the werewolf.

"Happy birthday, Aunt Bella," Draco greeted, rising from his seat to embrace the older woman. It was the first birthday they'd gotten to celebrate with her and everyone had really gone all out for the event. Even Greyback and Antonin had chipped in for a small gift.

Moving to the table, Bellatrix sat to Draco's right with Hermione to hers, the Gryffindor cuddling into her side.

Breakfast was a cheerful affair. Bellatrix gorged herself on pancakes and bacon, eating until she was almost too full to move. She was content to lounge around for the day; it was a rarity for the Dark Lord to allow his people a day off and she was going to take full advantage of the opportunity.

Making their way into the sitting room, Bellatrix curled up in a chair with Hermione and waited for the others to join them. She'd been told to wait there, so she'd dragged her lover along.

"You're rather affectionate today," Hermione commented, snuggling deeper into Bellatrix's hold.

Bellatrix paused, an odd expression crossing her fair features. "Is that a problem?"

Hermione leaned back to considered her girlfriend carefully. "Not at all, love. I like it. You know I love being in your arms, don't you?"

With an insecure shrug, Bellatrix glanced away, her grip loosening on Hermione's waist.

"Hey, don't do that," Hermione cooed, tilting Bellatrix's chin, "I love you, Bellatrix Black. More than I've ever loved another. I am just appreciating it. You've grown more comfortable with affection since we've gotten together and I love it."

"Okay," Bellatrix whispered, her hold tightening again. "I love you too, so very much."

Pecking Bellatrix's lips, Hermione's head returned to the crook of Bellatrix's neck. Remembering how closed off Bellatrix had been in the beginning of their relationship, Hermione hummed. She'd been careful at the start, as though she were afraid of scaring Hermione off – and she'd confirmed as much months ago – so seeing her lover so willing to touch her and be open about them was refreshing.

"Of course we find you two curled up," Draco quipped, carrying a small package into the room.

"Jealous?" Bellatrix sneered, though it held no malice.

Draco shuddered. "No offense, Hermione, but not a chance. That's like fantasizing about my sister."

"I feel the same," Hermione chuckled.

"Thank Merlin," he muttered, flopping on the couch opposite them.

The others slowly wandered in, each with a present in their hands. Bellatrix had told them she didn't want anything, but clearly no one had listened to her.

"Me first," Draco announced, shoving a box into Bellatrix's hands.

Releasing Hermione's waist, Bellatrix accepted the box and carefully unwrapped it. A brand new Hand of Glory stared at her, awaiting a candle.

"See, I told you I was buying a new hand," Draco smirked, leaning back into the couch.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You are too fond of these things."

"Thank you, Draco." Bellatrix smiled, setting the hand aside and accepting the joint gift from Greyback and Dolohov.

"Ought to open that later," Greyback advised with a lecherous grin, ignoring the swat on his arm from Narcissa.

Hermione flushed despite not knowing exactly what was in the package. It was bound to be something dirty if his words were any indication.

"Thanks…" Bellatrix drawled, eyeing it curiously.

She set it with the other present before taking a wrapped book from Lucius. She was pleasantly surprised when it was a book of Dark Arts spells she hadn't come across before. It had a lock keeping it closed from prying eyes and the key taped to the front.

"I found this at Cobb and Webb's and thought you might enjoy this piece of literature," Lucius said, tossing his arm around Narcissa's shoulders.

Hermione trailed her fingers across the cover. It looked similar to the book she'd bought on soul bonds, runes and old Latin etched into it. It held a dark energy that sent chills down her spine and made the hair on her arms stand up.

Narcissa's gift was another corset, a rather standard gift from her, but heartfelt none the less. She didn't appreciate the dark gifts bestowed upon her family, though she never said anything. It was in their nature to crave that sort of magic.

It was in their blood.

-X-

The rest of the day trudged along. She spent most of her day combing through her new book while Hermione curled up on the couch in the library, her texts scattered about as she looked through her school books for the year. She wanted to get a jump on things before the new term.

Draco would've been studying with her, but he'd managed to bend the tail twigs of his broom and wanted to smooth them down straight away. He promised to join them later but it'd been hours and he was nowhere to be seen. She assumed he found better ways to occupy his time.

That evening, dinner was quite a celebrate. Most of the Death Eaters ate with them, offering Bellatrix a chorus of happy birthdays as they came through.

But what Bellatrix cared about most was what awaited her when she and Hermione retired to their bedroom. She'd been anticipating it all day, wondering what her young lover had up her sleeve. It wasn't often that Hermione stopped them before they became a wild mess of sheets and breathy moans, so she was quite curious what Hermione was planning.

"Well, it has been quite a day and I do believe I'm tired." Bellatrix faked a yawn as she rose from the table. "I believe bed is in order."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione followed Bellatrix's lead. "Subtle, love."

"Who said anything about subtle?" Bellatrix smirked as they strolled out of the room, leaving behind the rambunctious group.

Once in their room, Bellatrix slammed Hermione against the door, attacking the Gryffindor's neck with a viciousness that surprised even her. All she knew was, in that moment, she wanted her girlfriend's skin baring her marks.

"Wait," Hermione moaned, moving to capture Bellatrix's mouth in a passionate kiss.

Bellatrix whined deep in the back of her throat, but continued to ravish petal-soft lips with light nips and a persistent tongue. She caught Hermione's bottom lip with her teeth and tugged.

"Go lay on the bed," Hermione murmured against her lover's lips, nudging her back towards the bed. "I have a present for you."

"I like where this gift is going," Bellatrix smirked, doing as instructed. She flopped onto the bed and eyed Hermione, desire evident in her gaze.

Grinning, Hermione slipped her package from the dresser and grabbed her robe, strolling out of the room and into the bathroom. She took a deep breath, staring at herself in the mirror.

"You can do this," she breathed, slowly stripping out of her regular clothes.

Unfolding her purchase, Hermione studied the lingerie critically. It was an exquisite set; a bustier with Slytherin green lace and a matching thong that Hermione hoped would look right on her. Its sweetheart neckline would plunge between her cleavage, emphasizing her bust and making it pop out more than usual.

Inhaling deeply, she hurriedly slipped into her erotic outfit, not wanting to keep the birthday girl waiting too long. Adjusting the straps, she glanced at herself in the mirror a final time. It definitely enhanced her ample flesh, encasing her breasts and leaving little to the imagination. Its matching thong clung to her hips.

 _I look hot_.

Swallowing dryly, she tossed on her robe and made her way back to their shared bedroom. Going inside, she paused as she noticed her lover was already undressed and waiting for her. Candlelight danced about the room, the only light offered. It bounced off Bellatrix's pale flesh and all Hermione wanted to do was chase after it with her tongue.

"Oh I definitely like where this is heading," Bellatrix said, voice husky with lust.

Blushing, Hermione dropped the robe from her shoulders, exposing herself to Bellatrix's hungry gaze. The heat of the room felt a thousand degrees hotter and she let it fall completely from her body, fully offering herself up to the dark witch. She watched Bellatrix stand from the bed and stalk towards her, something dangerous in her eyes. She looked ready to devour her from the inside out.

"Hermione…" she breathed, her fingers dancing across prominent collarbones and down her chest, stopping just between her breasts. "You look amazing."

"Happy birthday, lover," Hermione purred, finally confident in herself and the response her outfit garnered.

"Happy birthday indeed." Bellatrix pressed open-mouth kisses to Hermione's throat, delicate digits running along straining nipples.

Hermione caught Bellatrix's wandering hand. "Oh no, love, this is _your_ present."

"Do I at least get to unwrap you?" Bellatrix pouted, hands itching to rip the fabric from Hermione's body so she could have her wicked way with her.

"Not yet."

She pushed Bellatrix to the bed and shoved her onto it, slinking up her lover's naked body. She trailed her tongue from the top of Bellatrix's bellybutton up to her chest, capturing a hardened nub in her mouth as talented fingers plucked the other. Sucking firmly, Hermione scraped her teeth against pink flesh, earning a guttural moan from her lover and a hand sliding into her thick mane.

"Please," Bellatrix begged, the fire in her groin overpowering all of her senses.

Hermione smirked, releasing her nipple with an audible pop. She inched her way down, painting Bellatrix's skin in dark bruises that she was sure would last until Hermione left for school. She paused at her hipbones, biting at the sweet spot she'd found months ago. It always drove her lover crazy and the tightening grip in her hair was proof enough.

"Merlin," Bellatrix hissed, hips canting off the bed as they tried to find some form of friction. Every ounce of her blood was centered at the apex of her thighs and she was certain she'd combust if the blaze wasn't extinguished soon.

Finally reaching her destination, Hermione took a moment to appreciate Bellatrix's slick center, thighs wet with arousal. She wanted to tease Bellatrix, drive her beyond her breaking point, but she took pity on the older woman and ducked her head, catching Bellatrix's engorged clit between her lips. Laving it firmly with her tongue, Hermione trailed her fingers through her lover's excitement. She was hot and wanting, her breathy gasps breaking the silence of the room.

"Hermione…"

Skilling digits teased her entrance, but didn't dip inside. She was going to make this last; after all, it was Bellatrix's birthday.

"Tell me what you want," Hermione demanded, releasing the throbbing flesh.

Bellatrix whimpered, her body attempting to chase the pleasure it was being denied. "Hermione…"

"Tell me," she repeated, brushing her thumb barely over Bellatrix's aching clit.

"I want your mouth, your fingers, anything," Bellatrix whined, "Please."

In that moment, Hermione felt powerful.

She had Bellatrix Black – the Dark Lord's most loyal – nearly sobbing with need, a mantra of "please" falling from her lips like a prayer. Something dark inside of her wanted to keep going, to have Bellatrix's voice go hoarse from begging. She liked the way Bellatrix's pleas sounded, liked the way they cracked every-so-often as Bellatrix begged for more. It was utterly intoxicating to have one of the strongest witches in the world bending to her will.

Without warning she slammed three fingers into her ready lover, enjoying the way she clenched around the foreign intrusion. Velvet walls pulsed around her fingers, a silent plea for _more._ Thrusting almost roughly, Hermione recaptured Bellatrix's clit and sucked strongly, letting the tips of her fingers graze over Bellatrix's G-spot as she pushed her closer to the edge of ecstasy.

When Bellatrix was close, she backed off on her ministrations, wanting to draw this out as long as possible. Her lover's begs had tapered off into moans, her hands wrapped in the sheets as she tugged on them, nearly ripping them in the process.

Keeping her at the brink of an orgasm was easier than Hermione had anticipated. It was as though Bellatrix's body would only uncoil if she commanded it to, ready to spring at a moment's notice. She gazed up at the older woman, watching her toss her head about in pleasure. Her wild curls were sure to be tangled together and a thin sheen of sweat covered her torso. Fair flesh was flushed pink; she was a sight to behold.

Curling her fingers upward, Hermione commanded, "Come for me."

Bellatrix's form bowed immediately, her face screwed up in rapture as she finally tipped over the edge, a silent scream on her lips as her violent orgasm rushed through her. Her release soaked Hermione's chin and the young Gryffindor let out a moan of her own, her body subconsciously grinding into the bed. She could feel Bellatrix's pleasure coursing through her body as if it were her own and she came with her, positively ruining her thong as she drenched the fabric.

They laid panting on the bed, Hermione's forehead pressed to Bellatrix's thigh as she tried to catch her breath. It wasn't the most intense orgasm they'd ever shared, but it had caught her off guard. She wasn't trying to feel what her lover felt, yet in the end that was exactly what happened.

Gentle fingers combed through her locks and Hermione glanced up at Bellatrix, taking in the flush of her cheeks and the dopey grin on her face.

"That was amazing," she panted. "Did you…?"

Hermione nodded shyly, her confidence dissipating in the low light of the candles. She wasn't entirely sure what had come over her and it was a bit frightening. She'd felt that sort of authority before when they'd made love, but never that sharply.

Sensing her lover's distress, Bellatrix ushered her up and tucked Hermione into her side. "What's wrong, love?"

"I don't really know," Hermione admitted, burying her face in Bellatrix's shoulder.

A calming hand stroked along Hermione's spine and Bellatrix hummed. "Whatever it is, we'll work through it together."

Hermione stayed quiet, listening to the sound of Bellatrix's beating heart. She wasn't sure what was wrong, but for a second, when Bellatrix was close, she had felt out of control. Something primal and needy and _dark_ had taken hold of her and it left her on unstable ground once the haze had faded. It wasn't the first time it had happened – she'd felt it before when she was battling with Draco – but there was something disconcerting about it happening in the midst of their lovemaking.

Unable to think about it any longer, Hermione waved her hand and the candles grew dim before plunging them into total darkness.


	11. Chapter 11

The day Hermione had been dreading was upon them faster than she'd anticipated: departure day. Her trunk was packed, Crookshanks was caged and ready for travel, and she felt utterly miserable. She wasn't ready to leave; it felt like they'd only been at the manor a few weeks, not a few months.

"It'll be alright, love," Bellatrix assured her, her arms wrapped tightly around Hermione's waist as they swayed in the foyer. Narcissa was helping Draco finish up his packing – which meant she was packing everything the young Slytherin had forgotten – which left them alone for a few moments to bask in their sorrow together.

The night before the Death Eaters had a sendoff for the two Hogwarts students. There was a bit of a feast and joyful jostling as they teased the teenagers. Avery's parting advice was that - should they get into a spot of trouble - make sure not to get caught, much to Bellatrix's delight and Narcissa's chagrin.

Hermione burrowed deeper into the embrace, tears springing into her eyes. "I don't know if I can do this."

Bellatrix pressed a kiss to the side of her head and smiled sorrowfully. "You're stronger than you think, love. You'll be okay. You and Draco will fulfill the Dark Lord's command and before you know it, you'll be back here with us – where you belong."

Choking back a sob, Hermione nodded.

The task seemed so daunting now that they were returning to Hogwarts.

A trunk thumping against the stairs drew her attention. She glanced over her shoulder at Draco, sighing at the paleness of his features. He wasn't looking forward to going back either it seemed. Narcissa and Lucius flanked him, their arms locked together as they trudged into the foyer.

"Are you ready?" Lucius questioned, scrutinizing the girl apprehensively. She looked as pale as his son and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He'd come to care greatly for the young woman and seeing her so distraught…

Hermione swallowed dryly. "Yeah. Everything is packed and ready."

"Good. We should leave now. The platform will be crawling with aurors and it'll be for the best if we leave. Hopefully we can miss the majority of them."

Slowly extracting herself from Bellatrix's hold, she pecked the older woman's lips and cupped her cheek. "Be safe, love."

Bellatrix covered Hermione's hand with her own. "You too, darling. I shall see you at Christmas."

"Christmas," Hermione repeated, reassuring herself that she'd have a lover to come back to. If Bellatrix gave her word, she'd keep it.

Now all she had to do was remember that.

Joining the little family, Hermione took a deep breath and threaded her arm through Draco's, a sense of comfort washing over them. It was a common move for them; it had been since they'd grown close. He was the closest thing she had to a brother and it helped ground her when she no longer had Bellatrix to lean on. If she couldn't have Bellatrix, at least she had Draco.

Bellatrix sighed as she watched them disappear in an instant, leaving behind a void that seemed to steal her breath and left her sick to her stomach.

-X-

The muggle station was packed when they arrived. Aurors were stationed at every corner, ushering children through the barrier. She could see Harry being seized by one of them and directed toward the brick pillar, a scathing remark on his tongue as he dug his heels into the ground. Molly watched the young man disappear into the barrier before urging Ginny and Ron forward.

"Well, here we go," Draco breathed, following the flow of the crowd.

The Malfoys ignored the dirty looks shot their way by the aurors, continuing on as if nothing was happening. Hermione, irritated by the suspicious glances, returned their looks with a nasty expression crossing her features. They had absolutely no proof Lucius was connected to the Dark Lord anymore, so they had no right to judge them.

Slipping through the wall and onto Platform 9 ¾, Hermione took in the sounds of chattering students. The younger ones were completely unaware of the tension in the air, oblivious to the aurors on the platform and the nervous way their parents stared after them. The older children knew what was happening; their spines were ramrod straight, expressions fierce as though they were expecting an attack at any moment.

Harry's face was gaunt as he stood at one of the entrances, the bruises so pronounced that she could see them from where she was. It looked like he hadn't slept in weeks – and maybe he hadn't. The Boy-Who-Lived wasn't known for a solid sleep schedule and between his almost manic rantings and lunatic schemes he always conjured up with Ronald, it was possible that sleep had evaded him those last few weeks of summer.

The moment Harry noticed them – Draco who was still chatting with his parents and her – he gave her a look she couldn't quite explain. His eyes flickered between her long-sleeved shirt and his, as though his eyes couldn't decide which one was more intriguing. Ron was watching her curiously, an equally confusing expression crossing his features.

Draco linked their arms once more and led her to the train, each tugging their luggage behind them. Narcissa followed and stopped them just before they entered. She kissed Draco's cheek, ignoring his mutterings then kissed Hermione's.

"Be careful, you two. Watch out for each other."

"We will," Draco promised, lifting his trunk onto the train before hauling Hermione's up beside his.

They ventured onto the train, taking in the atmosphere. Half of the cars were full of happy chattering while the other half had only quiet murmurs, their somber moods evident as they warily glanced around. It wasn't too hard to find an open car and Draco threw their trunks onto the luggage rack.

"This year is going to be a mess," Hermione mused, letting Crookshanks out of his cage so he could wander about the car. She'd left him at the manor last Christmas, not taking him with her after the break, but she decided he would be good company in her room. Dumbledore was allowing her to keep her single, having realized that, despite her good deeds in the battle at the Ministry, most of her fellow Gryffindors still did not trust her.

Draco flopped onto the bench opposite Hermione and stared out the window as the train began chugging toward Hogwarts. "You're right, but there's nothing we can do to stop it."

The door to their car opened before Hermione could reply and they both peered over at the door. Ginny strolled inside, Arnold resting comfortably in her arms, his fuzzy pink head popping up at the sight of new people.

"What the hell is that thing?" Draco asked, eyeing the little puffball curiously.

"He's a Pygmy Puff," Ginny announced proudly, settling on the bench beside Hermione and scratching the top of Arnold's head. "Did you get an invite to Professor Slughorn's little group he's hosting on the train?" At Hermione's head-shake, Ginny sighed. "I think he only invited _important_ people. Neville got invited too."

"Huh…" Draco reached across the gap and ran a finger along its back, surprised by just how _soft_ he really was. "Don't those things sing on Boxing Day or something?" he asked, ignoring her comment about the former Potions Master.

He was a bit peeved neither he nor Hermione were invited, but he suspected it was because of their connection to the Dark Lord. He'd tried courting the man to their side more times than Draco could count, but he refused every time.

Draco often wondered why.

"They do," Luna chimed in from the door, a stack of _Quibblers_ in her hands. "Would you like a _Quibbler_?"

All three of them nodded, accepting the offered magazine from the girl. Draco blushed slightly as his fingers brushed Luna's, his ears glowing bright red. Embarrassment was never something Draco dealt well with, but he tried to remain cool and collected under her scrutiny.

Ginny and Hermione shared a look.

"Would you like to join us?" Hermione inquired, gesturing to the seat next to Draco.

Luna smiled serenely. "Maybe after I pass out a few more papers. More people have been interested in them since Harry's interview with my father."

She flitted out of the car, greeting Neville as he came into view. He waved at her, watching her walk away before slipping inside. He sat next to Draco and peered over his shoulder to study _The Quibbler_.

"Oh, an article about Wrackspurts," Neville muttered, reaching for the paper.

"What the _hell_ is a Wrackspurt?" Draco demanded, his stare falling to _The Quibbler_.

Hermione's attention fell to her own magazine and she thumbed through it. "Apparently it's an invisible _something_ that makes your brain go fuzzy."

"Huh…" Draco continued to peruse his magazine, combing through the articles curiously.

Leaning close to Hermione, Ginny whispered, "Since when does he care what _The Quibbler_ says?"

Hermione smirked. She hadn't brought up Draco's crush since he accidentally blurted it out at the beginning of the summer, but she realized it was _definitely_ something they needed to discuss if he was going to continue doing odd things like this.

If he was going for discrete, he was failing…

…spectacularly.

Ginny's eyes widened. "Oh."

Hermione shook her head, stopping Ginny from saying anything else. She didn't want to make Draco self-conscious, considering they hadn't talked about his thing for Luna. She frowned, guilt washing over her in an instant. She felt like such a horrid friend. She'd been so caught up in her own problems and relationship that she'd pushed him aside a little. They never really talked about things that bothered him – only her.

_That needs to change._

"Hey, Gin, can you and Neville go see what's on the lunch trolley?" Hermione suggested pointedly, glancing at Draco. She fished a few Sickles from her pocket and handed them to the youngest Weasley.

Catching her not-so-subtle hint, Ginny nodded. She stood and grabbed Neville's arm, dragging him off the bench and out of the car. "We'll be back in a few."

Neville shot them a bewildered look but followed the – surprisingly _strong_ – Weasley out of the car and into the madness of the train. Draco seemed equally as confused and Hermione shifted to the other side, sitting in Neville's recently vacated seat.

"I need to apologize to you," Hermione began, cutting off any protests with a wave of her hand. "No, I really do. I haven't been a good friend to you this summer."

"Hermi –"

"Stop. It's true and I know it is. I got so wrapped up in myself and everything that was happening this summer that we never had a chance to talk about _you_. You worried over me and let me vent when I needed it and comforted me after Father's decision, but not once did we really discuss your feelings. We never talked about your crush on Luna nor did we talk about how everything was affecting _you_ and I'm so sorry for that. You are my best friend, Draco, and I was lousy for acting like you were just a sounding board. I, in a way, took advantage of our friendship and that was wrong." Hermione wiped her hands across her jeans. "But that's going to change. I promise."

Draco was stunned. "Hermione, I never thought you were taking advantage of our friendship…"

Hermione leaned her head against Draco's shoulder and sighed. "Still, you deserve someone to talk to and I wasn't there when you needed me."

Patting her leg, Draco rested his head against hers. "Thank you."

They stayed that way for a moment, a comforting silence falling upon them. Draco would never admit it, but he'd felt a little alone these last few months. Crabbe and Goyle were absolutely useless to talk to and Hermione had spent most of her time learning about herself and her family – which he didn't fault her for by any means – so he'd kind of been left to his own devices. It didn't _really_ bother him, but it was a little lonely.

A knock on the door echoed into the car and Hermione righted herself, laughing at Ginny who was raising her thumb to double-check it was fine to come in. Hermione waved her inside and went back to her original seat, accepting the sandwich Ginny passed her.

Maybe this year wouldn't be too bad after all.

-X-

Tonks was among the aurors that greeted them at the Hogsmeade Station. Her somber expression was odd compared to her usual cheeriness, but a faint smile upturned her lips at the sight of Hermione and Ginny. Her eyes flickered to Draco, though her look didn't change like the other aurors.

"C'mon, guys, into the carriage," she ushered for them to follow her and helped the teenagers haul their stuff inside.

"Have you seen Harry and Ron?" Ginny inquired, hopping up into the cart.

Tonks nodded. "They're already at the castle."

"Of course they didn't wait for us," Hermione grumbled, following Ginny into the carriage. "I wish I understood what goes on through those boys' heads."

"Not a lot," Ginny giggled. "Have you met them?"

Once everyone was settled on the carriage, it began its trek toward the castle. Ginny, Draco and Neville were in a deep discussion involving the latest Quidditch news and statistics while Hermione and Luna just sat quietly, observing the long stretch of forestry ahead of them. The path was always pretty, but it was almost ominous nowadays, like nature was simply copying their wary mood.

"Such a dreary sight," Luna sighed.

Silently agreeing, Hermione nodded.

They came upon the gate, noting _more_ aurors standing just outside like bodyguards to someone famous. They held the same stoic impressions, as though they expected a hundred Death Eaters to suddenly appear and attack the school. Hermione rolled her eyes.

_As if Father was that stupid._

Stepping out of the carriage, they answered Flitwick's demand for their names, like he hadn't known them since they were first years. Their trunks were searched - even Crookshanks cage -, Draco arguing with Filch that his walking stick was a completely acceptable thing to bring within the school.

"I can vouch for Mr. Malfoy," Snape announced as he arrived from the pathway leading to the castle. He glanced briefly at Hermione, but said nothing.

She wondered if he'd caught her eavesdropping at the manor when she'd asked about her mother's potion recipes.

_Probably._

They followed him to the castle, an uncomfortable stillness in the air. There was no gust of wind or chirp of a bird.

"Does anyone else find this a bit odd?" Ginny whispered as they slipped into the looming building.

"Yes," Hermione hissed, just as quiet as the youngest Weasley.

With a sigh, she glanced about. The intrigue and mystery the castle once held seemed to have diminished over the years - or maybe she'd just gotten too accustomed to it. She'd once been so fascinated by the ghosts lurking about and the pictures on the walls, but with so much happening in the past year or so, she couldn't bring herself to be as enthralled. It was simply...

Hogwarts.

"We'll see you in the Great Hall," Ginny called, hauling her trunk toward the stairs, Neville following close behind.

Draco and Hermione started off toward the Slytherin common room, Hermione a bit grateful her room wasn't too far from Draco's common room. She felt more at ease knowing she wasn't being forced off into an abandoned part of the castle like a pariah.

"We shouldn't wait too long before heading to the Room of Requirement," Draco mused quietly. "Best we start mending it now."

"Agreed," Hermione replied.

They came upon Hermione's room and Draco smiled. "I must sit with the Slytherins during the Sorting ceremony but I'll stop by before curfew so we can talk more."

Hermione nodded, opening the door to her room.

It was just as she remembered. Green and silver curtains surrounded her bed and a desk pressed against the wall. It reminded her of the manor and her heart yearned for Bellatrix.

Throwing her trunk onto the bed, Hermione unlatched it. With a wave of her hand, the cloaking spell on her potions was removed, their wooden box coming into view.

She'd taken them diligently over the course of the summer, every day like clockwork, but now that she was away from her beloved, she wondered _why._ Would it be so terrible to be that connected to Bellatrix? She'd been terrified of the implications a year ago, but as she stared down at them, she made a choice.

She was done.

Dragging the box into the corner of the room, she waved her hand and it disappeared. She'd wean herself off them, deciding that quitting cold turkey might have adverse reactions. She wanted to feel her lover.

She _needed_ to.

Moving her trunk to the end of the bed, she sighed.

Hermione unlocked Crookshanks' cage and gathered him in her arms. She settled on the edge of the bed and stroked the cat's warm fur, taking comfort in his purrs.

_Oh Bella, how I miss you…_

-X-

The Great Hall was alive with chatter when Hermione stepped inside. Ginny was already there, sitting at the Gryffindor table with her brother and Harry. Neville was across from her and there was a seat for Hermione next to Ginny. As Ron caught sight of Hermione, he scooted over, silently offering her a place next to him, but Hermione declined, taking the seat Ginny had saved. She wasn't sure what was going on with Ron, but she didn't like it.

Not one bit.

Settling down, Hermione glanced over at Dumbledore, refusing to cower under his gaze. She couldn't tell if he was looking at her or Harry, but his expression gave nothing away. It was disconcerting.

"You two could've waited for us at the station, y'know," Ginny complained, pinching her brother's side - _hard_.

"Figured you'd be coming in with Draco, so we didn't think you'd care," Ron replied, rubbing the abused area with a wince.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You two need to grow up. Draco isn't so bad once you get to know him."

Ron's eyes widened. "You don't have a thing for Draco now, do you? Because Mum tolerates your friendship with him but she'd have a cow if you brought him home for Christmas dinner."

Ginny barked out a laugh so loud half of the Gryffindor table peeked over at her. "Merlin, no! He's a _friend_ , Ronald."

"You sound like Mum when you call me that," Ron groused, turning his attention to Harry.

Perking up when Ginny called Draco just a friend, Harry peered around Ron to stare at her. He'd been watching her a little more recently and it worried Ginny. She loved Harry like a brother; she didn't want to break his heart - something she'd have to do if he suddenly announced he had feelings for her. Her heart belonged to one person…

…and that person wasn't him.

Dumbledore cleared his throat from his podium and the room fell silent. The Sorting Hat was presented, his raspy voice urging all the houses to stay strong and diligent in these troubled times. He continued on to say they needed to unite - to _fight_ \- against all the evils threatening their world.

Hermione tensed. Her lover was considered one of those "evils" and the idea of someone attacking Bellatrix made her teeth clench and the dark magic within her flare. She would destroy _anyone_ that threatened her life. No one was going to take Bellatrix from her; she'd lost enough.

The Sorting didn't take as long as it had in the previous years. The Sorting Hat was quick in his judgments, unlike their first year where it rambled on about the great Harry Potter in some monologue most people hadn't really cared about. There were less first years as well; quite a few parents obviously had decided it was best to keep their children home.

Hermione couldn't blame them.

Once the feast commenced, the group began digging into the mountains of food. Ron and Ginny stacked their plates high, like they were about to have a contest to see who could eat the most. Hermione kept hers to a reasonable amount.

The conversation flowed between them somewhat uncomfortably. There was an odd tension between them that left Hermione sitting on the edge of her seat. She didn't know why, but Harry and Ron both repeatedly glanced at the left sleeve of her robe and it was beginning to grate on her already frayed nerves.

Once dinner was finished and dessert was being offered, Dumbledore took position at his podium and stared out over the sea of students. He extended his arms in greeting, exposing his gnarly, blackened hand to the entire room. They gave a collective gasp, but he merely smiled.

"There is no need for worry," he said calmly, letting his robe sleeve cover the dead skin.

He began his start-of-the-year monologue, offering key notes and rules that some students might not yet be aware of. Hermione snickered at his warning about Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, knowing fully well that absolutely no one would listen to him. Fred and George's business was _booming_ \- even she had bought a few things - so most of the students were bound to have some in their trunks.

His introduction of Professor Slughorn, however, sent the entire room into an uproar.

"…resume his old post as Potions master…"

Hermione was certain Harry was about to become a supernova of fury. His face was flushed; even the tips of his ears were crimson with rage. His grip on the table left his knuckles white and shaking.

" _Potions_?!" he repeated, spitting the word like it were acromantula venom.

"…while Professor Snape shall be taking over as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Glancing over her shoulder, Hermione noted Draco's look of pride as he stared at Snape. The man was smirking, obviously pleased with the reaction of the returning students. He raised his hand in acknowledgement, but did not stand.

The applaud from the Slytherin table was deafening.

Harry sneered, "At least we know he'll be gone by the end of the year."

Hermione's brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"No one ever makes it past a year," he snarled with a dark, humorless laugh, "I mean, Professor Quirrell actually died. Maybe we'll get lucky and there will be another death."

A red mist filled Hermione's vision and something within her snapped. She focused a dark look at Harry and exhaled slowly. She wanted him to take that back.

Worse, she wanted him to _hurt_.

How dare he say something like that? How dare he so flippantly wish death upon another person? Were his parents' deaths not enough for him? What of her mother's? What about all the students the basilisk had murdered? How dare he try and act holier-than-thou while wishing another such a fate…

Coming back to herself slightly, her gaze shifted from the boy to his goblet. She watched with disassociated interest as it cracked along the rim, sending pumpkin juice spewing onto the table in front of him and onto his robes.

Dumbledore's eyes fell to them, but he continued talking as though nothing was happening. He encouraged the students to follow all rules set by their teachers - and the stray aurors scattered about - this year, especially not being out of bed after hours. He also encouraged them to report suspicious activities if they noticed them and Hermione absently wondered if she and Draco would have more than a handful of reports filed against them before Christmas break.

Being children to dark witches and wizards left targets on their backs, after all.

"Well, off to bed!" Dumbledore finished merrily, clapping his hands together.

"That was cheerful," Ron muttered under his breath, rising from his chair.

Harry gaped at his broken goblet, the juice still trickling out the side. "My cup…"

Hermione pushed up from the table and stormed out.

_Be glad that wasn't your head, Harry Potter._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darker Hermione makes me happy. That's all.
> 
> So, I'm going to be honest. We're probably going back to one chapter a week unless inspiration slams into me like a freight train. With work starting back and me trying to get out more, I'm not going to have hours and hours of time on my hands like I have recently, so yeah. I might swing two a week, but I can't promise anything.
> 
> The chapters will start getting longer the deeper into the story we get, but I wanted to get us back to Hogwarts so here we are. Don't worry, one of the upcoming chapters will be very Bellatrix-centric so she isn't going to be forgotten, I promise.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day back!

The first morning of classes was always the worst, Hermione had realized early in her schooling. It was filled with loud students pounding their way through the halls toward their correct classrooms, first years panicking against walls as they finally took in just how much _work_ Hogwarts was going to be, and older students accepting their class schedules, each praying their OWLs were good enough to get them into NEWT classes.

Hermione knew without question she'd be accepted into her courses. She had ten O's; she could take any class she wanted. Most of her classes she was rather excited for, but Ancient Runes seemed a little daunting. It wasn't her favorite of the courses selected, but she kept it anyway. It would be good to have a solid grasp on the subject should she continue to study the Dark Arts. Most of the books she'd come across in the Malfoy library had runes etched into them and she was quite curious to see what they meant.

Her only complaint was that it just _had_ to be the first damn class of the day.

_Who in their bloody right minds assigns a fifteen-inch essay on the first day?!_ Hermione groused, her grip on her books tight as she ventured toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She was fairly certain she'd beat Harry and Ron there which would give her plenty of time to choose a seat away from them both. She wouldn't have minded – too much, anyways – working with Harry, but she was tired of carrying both boys on her back while they offered very little in return.

Besides, Ron was being a bit too odd for her tastes and why work with a _friend_ when she could work with her _best_ friend?

Draco was standing outside the door when Hermione appeared, clearly lost in thought as he stared at the wall opposite him.

"Are you alright?" Hermione inquired, touching his arm worriedly.

He glanced up, startled to find another person with him. "Hmm? Oh, I'm fine."

His assurances were less than believable, but Hermione decided to let it go. Instead, she simply squeezed his forearm. "Whenever you want to talk about it, I'm here."

"Thanks," Draco smiled appreciatively, opening the DADA door so she could slip inside.

Hermione studied the newly transformed room. It looked very _Snape_ -like. The curtains were drawn and candles lit the room, reminding her vaguely of his former potions classroom. Gnarly pictures were scattered about, images of contorted bodies and disgusting injuries filling her line of sight.

She scrunched her nose in revulsion.

"Should I assume you are not a fan of my new décor, Ms. Riddle?" Snape asked from the front of the class, a knowing smirk upturning his lips.

Hermione sat her books down onto a desk and strolled over to the man, throwing her arms around him briefly. "Not particularly." She laughed. "I am, however, really happy for you, Severus. I know how much you've wanted this position for years."

He stiffly returned the embrace, relaxing when the Gryffindor finally released him. "Yes, well…"

Hermione made her way back to Draco's side just moments before the door opened with a bang and the rest of the class filed in. Harry and Ron were the first inside with Neville close behind, a light blush coloring his cheeks. He hurried around them and over to Hermione, taking a seat behind her while Draco settled himself on her right.

A fitting place for him.

Ron seemed disappointed, but sat slightly away from them, his attention caught between Hermione and whatever Harry was yammering about. His gaze was disconcerting and Hermione shuddered.

"What's with the Weasel?" Draco muttered, glaring at the redhead.

"I have no idea," Hermione admitted with a shrug. "He's been acting odd lately."

Neville patted her shoulder sympathetically. He didn't know what Ron and Harry were up to - they played everything close to the chest these days - but even _he'd_ noticed.

Snape cleared his throat from the front of the classroom and everyone fell quiet. Most of the students had copy of _Confronting the Faceless_ on their desks, making the professor laugh sardonically.

"I have not asked you to take out your books."

The dull thud of multiple tomes hitting the floor echoed in the silence and Hermione chuckled under her breath.

"Something amusing, Ms. Riddle?" Snape inquired, glaring disapprovingly at the young Gryffindor.

Hermione shook her head, faking a contrite expression. "No, Professor."

Draco barely suppressed his eyeroll. He knew for a fact Hermione was unrepentant of her actions, but he wasn't going to point that out. Gryffindor would lose points on their own without his help - thanks to one Harry Potter.

Beginning his first day monologue, Snape strolled about the room, gesturing coolly at the pictures on the walls. His voice held an almost loving tone to it and Hermione shuddered. She knew what the Dark Arts could do - she'd combed through a few of her lover's books when Bellatrix was otherwise occupied - and to hear someone speak with such care toward the subject was a bit unsettling.

Bellatrix had done the same on numerous occasions and it'd bothered her then too.

So caught up in thought, she barely caught Parvati Patil's shaky, "Has an Inferius been seen, then?"

"The Dark Lord used them during the first war, so be prepared that he might do so again. Now, I am to assume that none of you are well-versed in nonverbal spells." Snape glanced at Hermione for a brief second. "What advantages does nonverbal spells provide?"

Hermione's hand shot up of its own volition.

"Ms. Riddle?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform, which gives you a split-second advantage."

The DADA professor rolled his eyes, unsurprised by Hermione's recitation of a book's explanation. She was one of his best students - something he'd admit to _very_ few - so of course she'd be able to do that.

He waved his hand, immediately dismissing her answer. "Fundamentally, you're correct. However, do refrain from simply repeating what you've read. That answer is nearly word for word from _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six_ and it's not very impressive."

A few of the Gryffindors snickered – namely Seamus Finnigan and Lavender Brown - but were quickly silenced by a sharp look from Snape.

"While some of you will excel, others will lack the concentration and drive it takes to achieve such a task."

His gaze fell upon Harry and an exchange of wills was passed between them, both refusing to cower under the other's look. Hermione had heard of Harry's disastrous Occlumency practices and wasn't surprised by their standoff.

"Now, pair up. One partner shall _attempt_ to perform a jinx silently while the other attempts to protect themselves nonverbally. Begin."

Ron stood, attempting to garner Hermione's attention, though Draco was quick to claim her as his partner. He'd seen what she was capable over the summer and refused to let another try and whisk her away. Besides, the idea of being paired with Pansy Parkinson or Blaise Zabini left a nasty taste in his mouth. Why partner with someone who offered no challenge when he could have _Hermione_?

It was a no-brainer.

"Didn't feel like partnering with Pansy?" Hermione smirked as they found an empty corner.

"Merlin no," Draco shuddered. "She's more likely to accidentally blow my head off or try and seduce me than to actually _help_ me."

Standing a few feet apart, Hermione tilted her head. She could feel the magic in her blood tingling, begging to be released. A nonverbal spell was a piece of cake for her, but she couldn't let anyone else know that.

They already thought she was dangerous enough as it was.

Draco's face scrunched up in concentration and he waved his wand, but nothing happened. His expression shifted to one of determination and he tried again, though it ended with the same result.

_I won't let some half-breed or mudblood show me up_ , Draco growled, his grip on his wand tightening to the point of his knuckles growing white.

Hermione took pity on her partner and leveled her wand at him, muttering, " _Tarantallegra,_ " under her breath. He barely avoided the jinx, but smiled appreciatively. If he could silently protect himself, then at least he'd be doing better than the majority of his class.

Minutes passed as Hermione volleyed spells at her partner, leaving Draco red-faced and dripping sweat. It reminded him of their summer training and he couldn't keep from laughing. He began to relax and then it happened…

He managed to block an incoming jinx – albeit weakly.

"Holy shit," he whispered, watching the spell dissolve into nothingness. "I did it."

Hermione smiled proudly. "You did it!"

"Excellent work, Mr. Malfoy. Twenty points to Slytherin." Snape didn't smile, but that didn't matter much to Draco. All he cared about was the fact he'd managed to protect himself – _nonverbally_ – from Hermione.

After that, spells flowed freely between the pair. Hermione stopped caring what the others thought and silently protected herself from every spell and jinx Draco threw her way. She was powerful. Why hide it?

Harry sending Snape flying backwards into a desk and then taunting the man had brought everything to a screeching halt. It ended the lesson almost immediately and the class was quick to vacate the room. No one wanted to deal with an enraged Snape.

Hermione broke away from Draco, promising to see him in Potions, and joined Ron and Harry.

"You shouldn't have done that," Hermione chided, ignoring Ron's chortling.

"He attacked me first!" Harry argued, fuming over the incident. "Besides, did you hear the way he was talking about the Dark Arts? He's obviously in love it!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but said nothing in return. He sounded so much like Ron these days that she was worried he was forgetting himself. The Harry she knew would never have…

Her thoughts trailed off as she realized that he actually _would_ do something like that. He'd always had a bone to pick with Snape.

Before she could say another word, one of the Beaters from Harry's Quidditch team came rushing towards them, two rolls of parchment in his hands. He offered one to Harry and one to Hermione.

He tried discussing Quidditch trials with Harry, but he walked away, leaving the Beater behind. Hermione smiled apologetically at the boy before rushing after the pair. They were combing over the letter Dumbledore had sent him, so Hermione carefully tucked hers into her robes, deciding she'd read it later. She wasn't sure what he'd written her – and she _definitely_ didn't want them knowing.

It was safer that way.

-X-

Hermione found herself outside of Potions after Arithmancy, her books tucked under her arms. She slipped inside, finding only a handful of students there. Pansy and Blaise were among the four Slytherins accepted into the class along with a number of Ravenclaws and Ernie Macmillan, the only Hufflepuff she knew. Lavender Brown was standing with the Patils and Seamus, a contemptuous look on her face as she caught sight of Hermione.

She was honestly startled to see Seamus there, given his proclivity to blow things up. She was going to make sure she was nowhere near him should things go sour.

_He's likely to blow up the whole school_ , she mused, making her way over to Draco.

There were cauldrons lined up on tables, smoke and wondrous smells billowing from them. She took a seat in front of the one golden cauldron, the smell so enticing that she couldn't help herself. Draco followed her lead and took the usual spot to her right while Pansy and Blaise scrambled to sit across from them, leaving behind the other Slytherin Hermione hadn't cared enough to know.

Poor girl was forced to sit with the Ernie and a few of the Ravenclaws.

Harry and Ron sat with Lavender and Seamus, leaving Hermione to almost feel bad for them. With Harry's luck, he'd probably get caught in the crosshairs of Seamus' poorly executed attempts to brew whatever they were making.

"Crabbe and Goyle didn't make it into this class?" Hermione asked, smiling when Draco laughed.

"Those two? Merlin, no! They're dreadful at Potions."

The potion in the cauldron drew Hermione's attention and she inhaled deeply. It held a dark, musky scent that Hermione had come to associate with Bellatrix and she smiled. This was definitely Amortentia.

"What is this?" Draco inquired, obviously enthralled.

"Amortentia," Hermione replied, jumping when someone chuckled behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at Slughorn and grinned sheepishly.

"That's right, Ms…" he trailed off, waiting for her to supply her last name.

"Riddle, sir. Hermione Riddle."

Slughorn paled slightly. He'd known she was going to be taking the course, but he hadn't expected her to be _so_ knowledgeable; well, he'd hoped, anyways.

_Brilliant, just like her father_ and _her mother_ …

He walked around the room, indicating to another cauldron. It looked like boiling water, with no smell or color.

"Can anyone tell me -" Slughorn cut himself off when Hermione's hand shot up. "Ms. Riddle?"

"Veritaserum, sir. It forces the drinker to tell the truth."

Slughorn clapped his hands together, vaguely aware of their trembling. "Very good. Now, what is this one?" he gestured to the muddy substance bubbling in the cauldron at the misfit's table.

Once more Hermione's hand was in the air. "That's Polyjuice, sir."

"Well done, Ms. Riddle," he praised, skin still rather pale. "I say that'll earn you twenty points for Gryffindor."

Hermione beamed.

"Now, Amortentia cannot produce real love. That is utterly impossible to create or force. No, it only causes a severe infatuation that quickly turns into an obsession. It's dangerous, possibly the most dangerous of all the potions in this room. All a person will be able to think about is the person who gave it to them, forgetting to eat or sleep; the only thing on their mind will be that person."

Ron sat up straighter, giving Slughorn his full attention.

Hermione glanced at Slughorn's desk, brows furrowing together. "Sir, is that Felix Felicis on your desk?"

Slughorn perked up. "You know what that is, Ms. Riddle?"

"It's liquid luck," Hermione informed, eyes widen with excitement. She peered over her shoulder at Draco. "It makes you lucky."

Draco's gaze jerked to Slughorn and he too perked up, finally deciding that this class was worthy of his time.

_If we could get our hands on that…_

"Impressive. Another ten points to Gryffindor." He strolled over to his desk and peeked into the cauldron. "Quite a tricky thing to make and disastrous if done wrong. Should you do it right, however, all of your endeavors succeed. Well, until the potion wears off, anyways."

"Why doesn't everyone take it all the time?" one of the Ravenclaws inquired, bright eyes staring wondrously at the brew.

"Too much of a good thing can be just as dangerous. It's toxic - even deadly - if too much is taken." Slughorn's expression grew dreamy as he stared out into the classroom. "I've only ever taken it twice in my life. And it was the two most glorious days I've ever experienced."

There was a far away glint in his eye that made Hermione stifle back laughter. This class was going to be an experience.

"Oh!" Slughorn cleared his throat. "And that's what your prize will be today. One bottle goes to whoever can brew an acceptable Draught of Living Death. Instructions are found on page ten of your books."

The brewing commenced the moment those words left his mouth. Students were quick to pull out ingredients, each praying to obtain that little vial hanging from a hook. Everyone wanted it - but who was worthy enough of it?

The moment Hermione's potion refused to turn lilac, she knew she'd lost. Hers and Draco's both remained a dark purple-y color no matter how much of the sopophorous bean's liquid she attempted to drip into her cauldron.

It tried changing, but alas, the color was still wrong.

Stirring the cauldron didn't help either. It lightened the mixture only slightly, leaving behind a murky, irritating mess that only served to frizz out her hair and left a nasty smell in her nostrils. She glanced around, noting that everyone - except for bloody Harry Potter - seemed to be having a harder time than them. Seamus had already made his potion erupt in smoke a few times, leaving his face covered in soot, an embarrassed pink flush left behind on his cheeks.

Harry, on the other hand, looked happy as could be.

_What the hell?_

Slughorn called for the ending of class and strolled about the room, taking inventory of each potion before stopping in front of Harry.

"My word! I believe this potion is perfect! You must have inherited your mother's skills in potion making. Not your father's, though; poor boy couldn't have brewed a Polyjuice potion to save his life. I can't imagine he would have succeeded well with this either."

Hermione glowered at Harry, eyeing the golden vial as Slughorn handed it to him.

"Use it well," the professor warned, dismissing the class with a wave of his hand.

It wasn't until they were at the Gryffindor table that Harry admitted the secret to his success. He showed them the battered copy of the book, shrinking under Hermione's angry glare.

"Of course you didn't figure it out yourself," Hermione muttered, flipping through a few pages.

"Hey!" Harry snapped back indignantly. "I just followed different instructions! It's not like I had some quill that helped me cheat or something!"

Hermione slammed the book closed, waving it in front of Harry's face. "You're following instructions from a complete stranger! Do you not see how dangerous that is? What would have happened if they were wrong, Harry Potter? There's a reason we follow recipes created by _real_ Potions Masters, not some random scribbles we find in books!"

"Excuse me?" Ginny demanded, dropping into the seat beside Hermione. "You're doing _what_?"

Harry's cheeks reddened and he tried valiantly to defend himself. "It's not like that, Gin…"

"What exactly _is_ it like, Harry? You're following orders from a strange book you found in the school. Can you really trust it? Do you not remember what happened the last time something like that happened?"

Ginny's hands were clenched in fists of rage. She'd fought so long to keep the nightmares from that time at bay, but this threatened to undo all the progress she'd made over the years. The idea of someone doing what a random book said was…

She shuddered.

Hermione covered one of Ginny's fists with her hand, hoping to ground the girl. She and Ginny had discussed some of the memories that had plagued the redhead during her visit that summer. She knew it still bothered her some days; no one that young deserved to go through something so tragic.

"She isn't wrong, Harry," Hermione agreed, squeezing Ginny's hand.

"Everything is _fine_ ," he insisted, tucking the book away in his bag.

Hermione shook her head. He was always playing with fire – and one day it was going to burn him.

-X-

_Dear Hermione,_

_There are important things I wish to discuss with you before the term is in full swing. I request your presence in my office this Friday after dinner has finished. Do not worry, you are not in trouble. I hope your first day back is going exceptionally well._

_Sincerely_

**_Albus Dumbledore._ **

_P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops._

-X-

Standing before the gargoyle guarding Professor Dumbledore's office, Hermione straightened her back and squared her shoulders, presenting herself with the same attitude becoming of a pureblood. She'd learned enough watching Bellatrix and Narcissa to know the proper ways of meeting a challenge in their society and she would not be intimidated by the headmaster. Whatever he wished to discuss clearly wasn't a topic of conversation she wanted to hear, but she couldn't ignore his thinly veiled demand, even though she most definitely wanted to.

"Acid Pops," Hermione spoke, barely flinching when the gargoyle jerked away and the wall opened up to reveal the spiral staircase Hermione had come to dread.

Sauntering up the stairs, she paused in front of his door before knocking, determined to – at the very least – fake her confidence.

"Enter," Dumbledore said, smiling serenely when the Gryffindor slipped inside. "Good evening, Hermione."

"Good evening, Professor," she greeted coolly, taking a seat in front of the man's desk.

If he noticed her indifferent attitude, he didn't comment. He leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands together as he studied her. She'd changed substantially over the course of the last year. Two years ago she never would have held his gaze so unwaveringly.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here tonight," he began, tilting his head. "Over this past year, many things have come to light and changed. Your heritage, the Dark Lord's return, your friends turning their backs on you…" he chuckled. "It has been quite the year for you."

Hermione didn't return the laugh, but sat up a little straighter.

Dumbledore was unperturbed. "As you are well-aware, Severus has acted as a double agent for the Order for some time. He has become one of You-Know-Who's _most loyal_ and has learned a great deal from – and about – him. He has learned invaluable things over the course during this time and, without him, the Order would be worse off than we are. But there are things even _he_ cannot tell us."

Realization dawned on Hermione and her eyes widened. There was no hesitation and the statement held no questioning lilt, "You want me to spy for you."

"You know things others are incapable of learning. You live among Death Eaters, watching and learning from them. I am certain you can find out things we cannot find out ourselves. I can't imagine that they hide who and what they are from you. It would go against what the Dark Lord stood for the first go-round. He doesn't believe in smoke and mirrors, does he?"

He didn't wait for a response as he continued on, "The Order is not perfect, Hermione. We have many skeletons in the closet and we've made mistakes just as grand as his, but we do what we must for the greater good. It turned its back on you when you were at your most vulnerable and I apologize for that, but as we make amends, we also need help only you can offer.

"You are His child and he expects your loyalty because of that. He believes our mistakes will draw you to him and keep you at his side. I wonder if he promises you great things should he win. He was always quite charismatic that way. That's what gained him so many followers during the first war. He can be very charming.

"But you cannot trust what he says. He only cares about himself and his needs. If you became a liability, he would cast you out like all the others. He doesn't know what love really is, Hermione. He will only lead you down a dark path and he will _destroy_ you."

Hermione was frozen, caught between wanting to wring Dumbledore's neck and wanting to scream until the building collapsed around them.

_How_ dare _he? The Order's made_ mistakes _? You people killed my mother_ , she wanted to scream, the urge to rip him apart so overwhelming that she had to restrain herself from letting whatever little amount of self-control she had left go. She'd never wanted to see someone's blood splattered across a wall so badly in her life.

He took her silence as agreement and he smiled, leaning forward. "I know it's a lot to consider, but talk with Severus. He can put things into perspective."

Nodding, Hermione rose from her seat. "Yes, sir."

She stumbled out of the room, her feet unable to carry her fast enough. She scurried down the stairs, the walls feeling like they were closing in around her. Her chest ached and she couldn't breathe, the world narrowing into a faded mess as she burst out of the staircase. She was panting as though she'd run a marathon, clutching the shirt above her heart as she tried to calm her pounding heart.

_Bella, I need you...  
_

Tears trickled down Hermione's flushed cheeks. All she could think about was how smug Dumbledore looked after his monologue, as though he believed she would truly cave. Was he right, though, about her father? Was she simply another pawn in _his_ game? She knew she was in Dumbledore's, but was her father just doing the same?

-X-

The nights were cold without Hermione, Bellatrix had realized. She didn't enjoy the dark solitude it had once offered. She hadn't received a letter yet from her lover, but she hadn't expected to. The first week was always the hardest in Bellatrix's opinion.

Staring into the blackness, Bellatrix let out a low sigh.

_I miss you, Hermione..._

Rolling onto her side, Bellatrix grabbed the pillow Hermione had slept on all of break and cuddled up to it, burying her face into the softness. It wasn't as good as the real thing, but for a moment she could pretend it was her lover beside her, not the empty void she'd left behind.

"Bella, I need you."

Jerking upright, Bellatrix frantically glanced about before exhaling deeply. This wasn't the first time she'd hallucinated her lover's voice, but it was the first time an odd tingling sensation worked its way up her spine to the base of her neck. Lying back down, Bellatrix closed her eyes and prayed that sleep came quickly.

It didn't.


	13. Chapter 13

Saturday morning found Hermione standing at Snape's office door.

Her chest was still tight and her hands were shaking so bad she could barely knock, but she was determined to have this discussion with him. He was the only person who would understand her plight. Draco would try and help, but he was biased.

He didn't know what it was like being trapped between two worlds.

"Enter," Snape called through the door a moment after Hermione's fist made contact.

Hermione stepped inside, closing the door behind her. _I really think I'm going to throw up_.

"Is there something I can do for you, Ms. Riddle?" Snape inquired, his usual nonchalance fading when he noticed how pale and sickly she looked. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," Hermione admitted, just barely making it to the nearest chair before her knees gave out. "How do you do it, Severus?"

Blinking, Snape stared at the young Gryffindor. "Excuse me?"

Laughing humorlessly, Hermione buried her face in her hands. "How have you been a spy for Dumbledore all these years? He told me he wants me to. Says I'll be able to find out things you can't…"

Gritting his teeth, Snape clasped his hands together. He wished he could say that he couldn't believe the Headmaster had asked a _child_ to become a spy for the Order, but he could. He'd had children doing all the work for him the last five years, why would this be any different? He _was_ surprised, however, that he'd waited until now to ask.

"Is he right? Will Father cast me aside the moment my usefulness runs out? Am I just another pawn? I know I am to Dumbledore - we all are - but is Father going to be the same? Does he only care because of that _fucking_ prophecy?"

Snape sighed. "The Dark Lord is a complicated man, Hermione. No one really knows what goes on in his mind, but the truth is, I do believe he actually cares about you in some capacity. He treats you far differently than any of his followers. He may not know what love is - not really - but you are the only thing he's come this close to loving. Despite Dumbledore's belief that the Dark Lord is only capable of destruction, there are layers to him. No one is completely good or completely evil. To be human means to have both residing in your heart."

Hermione nodded, enthralled by Snape's explanation. "How did you become a spy for the Order?"

Pursing his thin lips, Snape paused. "Do you know _why_ I hate Potter?"

"Honestly, I don't think _anyone_ knows why you hate him so much," Hermione replied, left utterly curious by the topic change.

Snape stood and began pacing, lost in thought.

"James Potter was a blight on the world," he started, shaking his head angrily. "I went to school with both him and Lily. He was a pest and a bully with his band of miscreants. They served only to torture those they deemed worthy of their shenanigans."

"You were one of them," Hermione concluded with a nod.

"Yes, I was. But Lily, she was so kind. She wouldn't have hurt a single soul. She was everything good in the world…"

Realization dawned on Hermione. The way he spoke about Lily was full of adoration and caring. "You loved her."

Chuckling darkly, Snape gave a single jerk of the head. "I did. I had loved her since we were children. We were once rather close, but she became romantically attached to Potter and the Dark Arts called to me. She hated it. She thought I was better than that, but the appeal was too much and we went our separate ways.

"I became a Death Eater when I graduated. He offered things I could only dream of, so I joined his ranks and rose quickly to prominence among them. It was easy. He believed in loyalty and kept those he trusted close. Your lover was one of them; I was another." Snape hesitated for a moment. "So when the time came, I told him of the prophecy foretelling his downfall."

Hermione was stunned into silence.

Snape continued, "I didn't realize he would choose Lily. I had hoped he would go after the Longbottoms, but he chose them instead. I begged him to leave her alone, but I couldn't trust he would, so I turned to Dumbledore."

"And he turned you into a spy as repayment for his protection."

Snape nodded. "Yes. When she died, I wanted to follow. A world without Lily Evans was too much for me, but Dumbledore insisted I protect Harry Potter in her memory. He was the only piece of her left. So I agreed. I often wish I hadn't though," he mused. "Potter is nothing like his mother and everything like his father. Spoiled and entitled."

Hermione nodded, finally understanding his plight. He was just as caught between two worlds as she was. Obligated to stay with the Order, yet drawn into the darkness. Just like her. "What do I do?"

"I cannot tell you that," Snape said, finally turning to face the young woman before him. "If you cannot, the Order will breathe down your neck until you do. If you do it, however, and He finds out…"

Hermione chewed her lip until the taste of iron touched her tongue. "Bellatrix would never forgive me."

Snape returned to his chair, allowing her a moment of contemplation. "They both would see it as an act of betrayal."

"Merlin help me," Hermione sighed, rubbing her forehead. She could feel a migraine coming on.

"The decision is yours. I cannot make it for you. No one but you can."

Hermione hesitated, a question she'd wanted answered for so long on the tip of her tongue. "Severus, who do you…?"

"I think they're both wrong."

-X-

_Dear Panther,_

_So much has happened in this last week. Classes are going to be brutal this year; I understand why NEWT stands for Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test. They're already demanding nonverbal spells in almost all of my classes. It's a good thing we practiced them over the course of the summer or life would be a lot harder._

_You'd be very proud of Draco. He's quite proficient now that he's gotten the hang of them. He isn't perfect yet, but I have no doubt he will be._

_On another note, I've decided to stop taking my potions. I am so tired of dulling our connection. What good is it doing us? We're still growing more powerful – both as a couple and as individuals – so why should we keep taking them? It's doing nothing for us anymore. I do hope you'll stop taking them, unless you aren't comfortable with the idea._

_During our first Hogsmeade trip in October, I need you to meet me at the Shrieking Shack. There's something I need to talk to you about but I don't feel comfortable discussing over letter. You never know these days who might read them._

_I miss you. So much. I have the worst time falling asleep without you. Being wrapped up in your arms…_

_Forever yours,_

_The Brightest Witch._

-X-

Hermione was tired of Harry and his bloody Potions book. He was excelling at the class like he was a god of Potions and it wasn't fair! He was a _fucking_ cheater yet he got praised like he was the Minister of bloody Magic. Slughorn fawned over him and it bothered Hermione beyond belief.

"How is Potter managing to do _good_ in Potions? He was never this successful when Professor Snape was teaching it," Draco sneered.

Hermione fumed in silence. She hadn't told Draco about Harry's special book and she hadn't really planned on it, but the more he used it to his advantage, the more Hermione began to resent him. She seen a new copy of the book arrive early that morning, but instead of doing the noble thing and returning the edited copy, he'd simply changed the covers.

It disgusted her.

She watched Harry and Ron rise up from the table in the Great Hall and sighed, pushing aside her half-eaten breakfast.

"Going to watch the Quidditch tryouts?" Draco asked knowingly, taking a sip of his orange juice.

"I promised Ginny I'd go." Hermione stood up, patting Draco's shoulder. "I'll see you later."

Hurrying after the two of the three former members of the Golden Trio, Hermione met them just outside the door leading to the pitch.

"Morning, Mione," Ron greeted cheerfully, sliding himself between Hermione and Harry. "Come to watch tryouts?"

"Obviously," Hermione drawled, arching a brow curiously at Ron. His face was redder than usual and his smile was disconcerting, a twinkle in his eye that hadn't been there for nearly a year directed towards her.

Ron flexed. "You'll be impressed. I worked out a lot over the summer. I think I've got this in the bag."

He tossed his arm around Hermione's shoulders and she grimaced. She extracted herself from his grip and moved a few inches away, eyeing him warily. He didn't seem bothered by her actions, instead shooting her another smile that left her feeling queasy.

"Good luck," she offered genially.

Heading to the stands, Hermione sat a good distance away from Lavender and Parvati, watching them out of the corner of her eye. Clearly Lavender's crush on Ron hadn't lessened over the summer and honestly, she could have him. Maybe it would keep him from acting so damn _weird_!

Spotting Ginny, she waved. Her friend was fierce in her Quidditch gear, a look of determination crossing her fair features. Her face softened as she offered a wave of her own, but her mask slipped back into place a second later. She wasn't going to lose her spot to _anyone_.

"Did you see that? I swear, those two are dating," Parvati announced, probably louder than intended, her voice carrying down the bleachers.

Hermione froze, listening intently to Lavender's snicker.

"Riddle doesn't stand a chance with her. You saw her last year; Ginny likes boys _way_ too much." Her tone was snide, leaving a nasty taste in the back of Hermione's throat.

_She better not be implying what I think she is…_

"It sounds like you're calling her a…" Parvati whispered the last word, but Hermione was certain she knew what the girl said.

"Well, I'm not wrong and you know it," Lavender laughed, her shrill cackle setting Hermione's teeth on edge.

_Oh hell no._

Hermione twisted her head, narrowing her eyes at Lavender. She was too busy laughing with Parvati to notice her gaze. With a minute wave of her hand, Hermione smirked.

The blonde Gryffindor burst out into song, arms flailing even as her eyes widened in horror. She tried desperately to stop, her face reddening but she couldn't. Hermione's spell was far too powerful - and Hermione knew it.

She couldn't contain her giggles, laughing harder when Parvati glared at her and started ushering Lavender from the benches toward the school. The spell would wear off eventually, but until then, everyone would be stuck listening to her musical wails.

_Bellatrix would be so proud._

Returning her attention to the pitch, Hermione took note of Ginny flying around, Quaffle in hand. She was so impressive as a Chaser and the older Gryffindor was certain she'd become a professional Chaser some day. They'd be crazy not to sign her. Her Quidditch prowess was too phenomenal to overlook.

"Go Ginny!" Hermione screamed, cheering when the youngest Weasley tossed the Quaffle effortlessly through one of the three hoops.

When it came time for the Keeper tryouts, Hermione was ready to leave. Ron was grinning at her, hoping to earn her praises but she honestly couldn't have cared less how he did. She'd come to watch Ginny and now that she knew her friend was - rightfully - kept on, she cared very little about the rest of the team.

McLaggen was staring up at her too, a cocky smile upturning his lips. He was a prat and most of their House knew it, so Hermione simply ignored him. He wasn't worth her disgust.

Ron lined up in front of the hoops, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught his sister would provide. She wasn't kind to him; she'd treat him like an enemy. She would pummel him with Quaffles if need be until he proved himself.

His sister shot towards him…

Hermione hated to admit it, but she was a smidgen impressed with Ron's performance when all was said and done. He played admirably, even taking a Quaffle to the head to avoid it going into the goal. It had obviously stunned him, but he kept defending his hoops like they were the most important things in the world. He'd done better than McLaggen too, which was a bonus.

At least she wouldn't have to cheer for that prick during their season.

Hermione joined the rest of the spectators as they clapped for Ron, though she refrained from screaming like others did. She didn't want to stroke his – already too large – ego. He was acting strange enough as it was.

She could make out McLaggen arguing with Harry, his face so red that Hermione was worried the poor dunce would pop a blood vessel. He was inches from Harry, glaring at him as he gestured wildly. He clearly wasn't happy that Ron had outperformed him.

After a moment McLaggen stormed off, leaving behind an equally-as-red Harry. He looked irate, but managed to keep his cool until the end of tryouts. He didn't shout or curse at McLaggen, but clearly he wanted to.

McLaggen had a way of getting under people's skin.

When tryouts were over, Hermione trotted down onto the field and threw her arms around Ginny, hugging the younger girl enthusiastically. "You did amazing!"

Laughing boisterously, Ginny returned the hug. "Thanks."

"How'd I do?" Ron butted in, his voice causing the girls to separate.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but smiled tolerantly. "You did good, Ron. How's your head? That looked a little painful."

Ron puffed out his chest. "Oh, that was nothing. I barely felt it."

Ginny's brow arched. "Oh really? Next time I'll make sure I hit you _harder_."

Harry chuckled, patting Ron on the shoulder as he deflated. Ron was obviously trying to impress Hermione, but it seemed to be failing epically, whether it was because of Ginny or because she just didn't care.

Harry felt bad for him.

"We're about to head over to Hagrid's, do you want to come with us?" Harry asked, staring hopefully at Ginny.

Shaking her head, Ginny grabbed her broom. "No thanks. I'm going to go clean off before I go study with Luna. We've got a paper to write for Charms class."

Harry pouted as Ginny walked away, his eyes never leaving her form until she was out of sight. Ron elbowed Harry – _hard_ – in the ribs, though Harry wasn't fazed. He had realized over the summer that he had feelings for the youngest Weasley but she didn't seem to notice. It was a blow to his ego, but he was determined to catch her eye.

Hermione shook her head. He was so obvious.

"Are you coming?" Ron wondered, an expectant look on his face.

She pursed her lips, studying the redhead. "Yeah, I guess I'll tag along. I feel bad that we aren't in his class anymore."

She didn't really want to go with them, but Hagrid had been avoiding them ever since he found out they weren't taking Care of Magical Creatures. He was clearly hurt, seeing it as an act of betrayal. She couldn't fit it into her schedule, though. Taking seven NEWTs was enough for her. She had to pick what was important…

And his class wasn't.

-X-

Cross-legged on her bed, Hermione thumbed through her _Advanced Potion-Making_ book Wednesday night. She was notating things of interest, prepping herself for the next class. If she was going to best Harry Potter and his _special_ book, she needed to be at the top of her game. She would prove she was smarter than something that seemed to just _land_ in Harry's lap.

Sighing heavily, Hermione let out a low groan as she leaned back, enjoying the light pops accompanying her move.

A solid knock on the door drew her attention and she righted herself. It was rather late in the evening – nearing curfew, actually – so she could only assume it was one of two people: Ginny or Draco.

"Come in."

The door opened and Draco slipped inside, closing the door behind him. "You know, I have to appreciate the fact your room doesn't have the same anti-boy jinx on it that the girls' dormitories do."

"I guess my room acts as both a common room _and_ a bedroom, so…" Hermione shrugged indifferently.

"We should go to the Room of Requirement after everyone's gone to bed. Like I said when we arrived, it's a safer choice to start mending the cabinet _now_ rather than later. We need to get this done as quickly as possible." He joined her on the bed, kicking off his shoes so he too could cross his legs.

Hermione nodded in agreement, opening her book once more. "You should just hide out in here until bedtime. I can't imagine anyone else will come traipsing through my room. Well, aside from maybe Ginny."

Draco shook his head. "She was down at the Quidditch pitch when I last saw her."

"Do you know who you're letting on the team yet this year?" Hermione wondered absently, jotting a note beside one of the pieces of information she'd scribbled earlier.

"No idea," he said, "But hopefully this is the year we kick Gryffindor's pathetic arse."

Smirking, Hermione nudged Draco. "Hey, that's my House you're talking about."

"It's true and you know it," he argued, playfully bumping his shoulder against hers.

Hermione hummed as a thought crossed her mind, giving her pause. She still hadn't talked with Draco about his slight infatuation with Luna and now seemed like the perfect opportunity. She closed her book once more, deciding that she wasn't going to get anything else done with it that night.

"So," she started, fully turning to Draco and giving him her full attention, "So, Luna, huh?"

Blood colored Draco's cheeks. "What about her?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione smiled encouragingly. "Tell me about your crush, Draco. I was honestly surprised when you said you liked her. Talk to me."

"I don't really know how it started," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "In the beginning when she first started coming around, I thought she was odd. I thought I understood why most people teased her, but then I started noticing how nice her laugh was and the way she talked so animatedly about those creatures in _The Quibbler_ and how she added commentary to mine and Ginny's conversations about Quidditch even though she isn't really a fan and I just started liking her."

Hermione found his ramblings adorable and patted his hand, urging him to continue. It was obvious he needed to get this off his chest.

"It doesn't help that she's really pretty. She'd fit in great with the Malfoy side of the family, you know? I mean, Mother and Father are blonde with light eyes. She's blonde with light eyes. It kind of fits our aesthetic…"

Chuckling, Hermione acknowledged the statement with a nod. "She would. Can you imagine how _blonde_ and pretty your kids would be?"

Balking, Draco gaped at Hermione. "Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, aren't we?" he squeaked, wincing at the pitch of his voice.

"All jokes aside, I think you should go for it," Hermione stated, grinning at the boy she'd come to think of as her brother. "You two would be cute together."

Draco deflated. "I don't think she likes me in that way. She seems pretty enamored with Longbottom."

"Well, that can always change," Hermione said in a decisive manner. "Show her you'd be good together. Get to know her and learn about her interests and just be _genuine_ about it. That seems like something she'd appreciate."

"Do you really think I stand a chance?" he asked hesitantly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He could feel the beginning blossoms of hope curling up in his chest, but he was terrified. He didn't want to be rejected; it would be crushing.

"I really, _really_ do."

Glancing over at the clock on her bedside table, Hermione pursed her lips. They'd been talking for nearly an hour and it was just past curfew. She knew the Prefects would be making their rounds, but if they were careful, she was certain they'd be able to avoid them.

"We should probably go," Draco decided, standing from the bed and slipping his shoes back on.

"We have to be careful," Hermione advised, following his lead. "If we get caught out of bed, who knows what'll happen. People are already incredibly skeptical of our intentions this year. I'm fairly certain Ron and Harry think we've taken Dark Marks."

Draco spun around, startled. "What makes you think that?"

"They keep glancing at my arm. It's like they're expecting my sleeve to roll up and for the Mark to appear."

Rolling his eyes, Draco strolled out of the room. "They're not very subtle, are they?"

"They never have been," Hermione retorted, closing the door behind her.

The halls were abandoned, not a single student roaming them. Most students were too afraid to, considering the school often housed Aurors that were likely to shout and berate them if they were caught out of bed.

They weren't the friendliest bunch.

Sneaking through the school was easier than Hermione had anticipated. They'd avoided the Slytherin Prefects by simply hiding behind a tapestry until they passed. They weren't even hiding well! Obviously the Prefects didn't want to be stuck wandering around the grounds either.

Hermione ignored the judgmental looks some of the pictures gave them as they rushed up the stairs. She could hear them whispering about them, wondering what mischief they were up to but she didn't care. What could they possibly say about her that others hadn't?

Making their way to the seventh floor, the pair followed the hallway until they reached the door to the Room of Requirement. It stood tall and proud, looming over them as they stopped before it. Hermione inhaled sharply. The last time she'd stood here, it was for a DA meeting. Now she was turning her back on everything she knew.

_Am I making the right choice?_


	14. Chapter 14

The school was quiet, most of its residents still tucked away safely in their beds, dreaming of better times. Hermione was among them, tangled up in her sheets, a pillow held firmly in her grasp as she dreamed of her lover – of their vacation to France, the way Bellatrix's kisses were all-consuming, of being _happy_.

She was completely oblivious to the sound of a muttered, "Alohomora," outside her door and the creaking of wood as it swung open. Two figures stood in the doorway, eyeing the girl lightly snoring on her bed. One closed the door behind them, wincing at the slight "click" it offered in protest.

They crept forward. The room was dark, but they'd been here before. They knew how to avoid the trunk at the end of the bed and the desk against the wall. She kept most parts of her room the same and it worked to their advantage. One on each side of the bed, they shared a look before peering down at the bed.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Ginny screamed as she jumped onto Hermione's bed. "Happy birthday!"

Hermione's eyes flew open and she shrieked, jerking out of bed and landing at Draco's feet. She hit the floor with a hard thump and Draco started laughing, unable to hold it together. He doubled over, gripping his sides as tears gathered in his eyes. He couldn't breathe; Hermione's shriek had stolen the air from his lungs.

Ginny's eyes were wide and full of childish wonder as she bounced happily in place, unconcerned with Hermione's violent cursing. Hermione was glaring at Draco, utterly unamused by their shenanigans.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you two?" Hermione demanded, finally dragging herself up from the floor.

"It's your birthday!" Ginny grinned, "So we thought we'd come surprise you this morning! We've got cake that Draco and I stole from the Great Hall last night and presents!"

Hermione looked past Ginny and saw a floating plate of cakes and two neatly wrapped packages. Whatever irritation she'd felt drained away and her heart warmed.

Her friends were the best.

Hermione's smile faded. Ron and Harry had never done something like this for her before. Two boys who'd been her "friends" for over five years hadn't celebrated her birthday the way Draco and Ginny seemed to. They'd tell her happy birthday if they remembered, but more often than not, they'd forget until someone else mentioned it - if anyone mentioned it at all.

_This is what friendship truly is,_ she realized, the notion slamming into her like the Hogwarts Express. She'd known they were special, but she'd never understood how neglected she'd felt until this moment.

Hermione spun around and embraced Draco, clutching desperately at his shirt as she cried into his chest. He was startled, but wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair comfortingly.

"Hey, it's okay," he murmured.

Ginny stood from the bed and hugged Hermione from behind. "We're sorry. We didn't mean to upset you…"

Hermione shook her head violently. "It's not that," she sobbed. "You two are just so wonderful."

Ginny gave Draco a confused glance and he shrugged the best he could, trying not to jostle the crying girl in his arms. He was baffled by her reaction but he knew Hermione; she was crying for a reason, they just needed to wait out her tears.

Eventually her sobs became sniffles and her grip on Draco lessened. She wiped away the stray tears that lingered on her flushed cheeks. She released the Slytherin and stepped away, dislodging Ginny from her back at the same time.

She offered a watery smile. "I'm sorry. I just…" she choked out a laugh. "You guys are the best friends I could have ever hoped for."

Ginny hugged Hermione. "Oh, we know," she joked, patting Hermione's back. "That's why you love us."

"I really do."

-X-

Gringotts Wizarding Bank was full of noise when Narcissa strolled confidently inside, a cloaked figure following behind her. Not a hair out of place and a fake smile curving her lips, the woman sauntered to the podium.

"I wish to enter the Black vault," she stated calmly.

The figure stopped a few inches behind her, their face covered by a dark hood but a predatory smile tugging at the corners of their mouth. It wasn't often they got to walk so freely into the world, even if it was just Gringotts. Besides, they were on a mission to find something buried deep within the vault.

The goblin behind the podium glanced up. He wasn't a blithering idiot; he knew _exactly_ who it was beneath the cloak, but he said nothing. Goblins did not trust either side of the Wizarding world but they knew not to anger the darker half of the impending war. The Dark Lord had been trying to recruit them since his return and - while they vehemently refused - they knew it was best to turn their heads lest he slaughter them all.

"Of course, Madam Malfoy. Follow me," he instructed, leading the two deeper into the bank and away from curious gazes.

They followed him in silence, their eyes never straying toward the other vaults. They weren't interested in anything other than the Black vault, something the goblin was thankful for.

"Here you are, madams. I shall be outside should you need anything," he told Narcissa, nodding to the hooded figure as he opened the golden door.

They stepped inside and Bellatrix dropped her hood, freeing her wild curls from their confine. She combed her fingers through them, though it did her no good. They were bound to stay messy forever.

"Why are we here, Bella?" Narcissa inquired warily, glancing at the door. She didn't trust goblins; they were too well-known for their trickery and distrust of wizards.

Bellatrix hummed, slinking farther into the vault. "The Dark Lord has asked me to check on something for him and I am searching for something of great importance."

She walked through the throngs of possessions left to her after her parents' passing. There were a great many things, but she paid them little mind. The table in the center was what called for her attention and she easily found what her master sent her to find. A golden goblet sat in the middle, surrounded by other odd trinkets and dishware that mattered little to her.

_It's still here. Good_. Bellatrix nodded, satisfied with her findings.

Against the wall stood a series of shelves, each level covered in dark artifacts and jewelry. She hadn't gone through them in years and absently noted that she probably needed to. They were simply adding to the clutter of the vault.

She walked over to the shelf at the far wall and studied it critically. She nudged a few necklaces away, not entirely certain which ones were cursed or jinxed; her mother had an affinity for bewitching jewelry in her spare time. She'd need to check them sometime in the future, especially if she were to share her vault with her lover some day. She wouldn't want Hermione coming across something that caused irreparable damage to her being.

"What are you looking for?" Narcissa asked, intrigued by Bellatrix's determined expression.

Sighing, Bellatrix looked away from the shelf for a moment to glance about. "There's a ring somewhere in all of this chaos that I am looking for…"

Narcissa froze, watching her sister with wide eyes.

Swallowing hard, Bellatrix confirmed Narcissa's silent question. "Today is Hermione's seventeenth birthday."

"You're going to propose to her…"

"That is my intention if I can manage to find what I'm looking for." Bellatrix returned her attention to the shelf.

If she were honest, Narcissa knew this was coming. She was almost surprised her sister hadn't already asked for Hermione's hand yet, though she was proud of her for waiting. The Bella of old would've proposed the day she realized how deeply in love with Hermione she was, but the new Bellatrix was patient, taking things slowly for the Gryffindor's sake.

It just showed how much Hermione had changed Bella, in a good way.

Narcissa stepped deeper into the room. "Would you like some help?"

Bellatrix nodded, combing through the items on the shelf before her. "That would be extremely helpful because there are clearly too many things for me to go through by myself."

Laughing, Narcissa moved to the opposite wall. "That is an understatement, Bella. What are we looking for?"

"I wish to give her Grandmother's ring. The one Grandfather gave her when their marriage was arranged. It was very pretty and I believe she would like it far better than Mother's." Bellatrix pursed her lips, crouching down as she combed through the lower levels.

The ring in question was simple - something their family wasn't known for. It was a thin band with a black diamond in the center with a group of emeralds surrounding it. It was very Slytherin in style; a perfect Black heirloom.

Their mother's ring was far too gaudy and extravagant; definitely _not_ Hermione's taste.

Narcissa began searching for the ring, having thought it'd been lost to time. She had no idea it was in Bellatrix's vault, though it shouldn't have surprised her. Their grandmother had liked Bellatrix best, so of course she'd leave it to her in her passing. She'd seen a lot of herself in Bellatrix.

Bellatrix hummed as she scoured the vault. She was nervous about Hermione's reaction, but she knew one thing for certain: she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Hermione Riddle. She just hoped Hermione wouldn't think her proposal came too soon. She still had two years of schooling left but Bellatrix couldn't bring herself to wait. With the impending war and whatever else may come, she wanted to marry her _now_ before everything goes to hell.

Time passed by yet neither woman could find it. They spent hours searching through the jewelry and trinkets lining the room, but came up empty handed. Bellatrix was certain it was there, but where?

She'd almost given up when something caught her eye. A gleam in the light of the vault. It was barely noticeable, trapped beneath the Dark Lord's goblet.

She rushed over to the cup and carefully set it off to the side, staring at the piece with glistening eyes. She remembered her grandmother promising her that ring, telling her that one day she was to give it to her child so they may offer it to their betrothed as a sign of good faith. She'd expected Bellatrix to have a son and let him have it one day but instead she herself would be proposing with it.

She wondered what her grandmother would think of her now.

Narcissa walked up behind Bellatrix and gripped her shoulder comfortingly, gazing upon the ring that held so much history. Their grandfather had actually loved their grandmother his entire life and she'd come to love him in return. She couldn't remember a time where her grandmother had ever taken it off; she always wore it so proudly. She'd always hoped for a marriage like theirs and she'd found one. She truly loved Lucius, and he loved her equally. She prayed that Draco would find someone like that some day.

Bellatrix swallowed dryly and grabbed the ring, tucking it into her corset. "Come on. We must go. We've spent too much time here already."

She threw on her hood and stalked towards the door, Narcissa following close behind. She nodded her thanks to the goblin still standing watch outside of the vault and they slipped out of the bank and into the world, the solid thud of the door sounding behind them.

-X-

_My darling,_

_I wish you the happiest of birthdays. Draco says he and Ginny made sure you had the best one they could give you. I am so happy for you all. Send my gratitude and thanks to your friends._

_I miss you greatly. The manor is so quiet without you. I find myself staring at the ceiling a lot, wondering what you are up to. I can only hope your classes are going well._

_I love you. I hope you know that. I shall be at the Shrieking Shack, I promise._

_The package Nox is delivering along with this letter is nothing Dark Arts related or dangerous. It is simply a new quill. It is quite similar to the one the Weasley twins offer in their little shop, but I've made sure this one actually_ works. _It should help correct any misspellings you may encounter in any of your papers. I'm certain you've already written plenty of inches, but I think this might help you._

_Forever yours,_

_Your panther._

-X-

October came faster than Hermione anticipated, yet she couldn't stop the excitement bubbling in her chest. She knew Bellatrix would keep her word and come to Hogsmeade, even if it meant braving Aurors that would happily arrest her in a heartbeat if they found her. She was also meeting with Narcissa at the Three Broomsticks where she was planning to confront the woman about her blatant lie. She wasn't really angry with Narcissa, just confused by the deception.

"I swear Snape is trying to drown us in homework," Ginny complained as she and Hermione ventured into Hogsmeade, scarves wrapped tightly around their necks to fend off the chilly winds beating against their bodies.

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "He's preparing you for OWLs, Gin."

"No, he's trying to see who'll cry first," Ginny argued, "And I'm pretty sure it'll be Graham Romsey. He is _not_ handling that class well."

"He's a Hufflepuff, right?" Hermione inquired.

Ginny nodded. "Yeah. Nice guy, kind of quiet though."

They stopped at the edge of Hogsmeade, noting all the Aurors milling about. The little town was crawling with them and icy tendrils of dread wormed its way into her chest. She feared for her lover. Bellatrix was cunning and brilliant but there were a _lot_ of Aurors.

"Shit."

Ginny glanced at Hermione. "What's wrong?"

"Bella was supposed to meet me at the Shrieking Shack but…" Hermione whispered, trailing off when she noticed an Auror eyeing her guardedly.

Nodding, Ginny glared at the Auror until he looked away. "Maybe Tonks could help? I bet she could get you to the shack."

"Is Tonks even in Hogsmeade right now?"

Ginny linked arms with Hermione and led her toward the Three Broomsticks. "We'll find out. If not, I'll help you figure something out."

"Thank you," Hermione responded, a genuine smile tugging at her lips.

She really did have amazing friends.

The pub was alive with chatter when they stepped inside. Hogwarts students filled most of the tables, their excited voices melding together into racket. No conversations were distinguishable, but Hermione decided that was for the best, considering she was about to discuss with Narcissa. If she couldn't hear over the crowd, that means the Aurors wouldn't be able to hear them.

Spotting two platinum blonde heads sitting at the booth near the back, Hermione steered them towards it. Draco was already there, sipping a butterbeer while he chatted with his mother. Narcissa was smiling indulgently at her son, her hands clasped together as he regaled her with stories of their schooling.

"She was singing for _hours_ ," Draco cackled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course he would tell Narcissa about her encounter with Lavender. He'd laughed about it for hours, mockingly singing at Lavender whenever she passed. He'd gotten all of Slytherin house to, actually.

She had been pleasantly surprised to learn Pansy had a lovely singing voice.

"Good morning, Narcissa," Hermione greeted, leaning down to peck the older woman's cheek.

Narcissa smiled. "Good morning." Her attention shifted to Ginny, who was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Ms. Weasley. Would you care to join us?"

Ginny awkwardly grinned, rubbing the back of her neck. "Thank you for the offer, but I promised Luna we'd go searching for some of her little _creatures_. Maybe next time?"

Draco perked up. "Oh, really? Can I tag along?"

Blinking owlishly, Ginny gave a slow nod. "Uh, sure?"

Hurriedly sliding out of the booth, Draco kissed his mother's cheek. "Sorry to leave you so soon, Mother, but…"

Narcissa waved off his apology and laughed. "It's perfectly fine, Draco. Enjoy your time with your friends."

Hermione took the seat Draco vacated, watching her best friends leave the inn before turning her attention to Narcissa.

"We need to talk," Hermione murmured, taking a drink from the butterbeer Draco had abandoned. She was nervous, but it needed to be discussed, even if it made her uncomfortable.

Narcissa's brow twitched, but she nodded. "About?"

"You lied to me at the manor."

"I didn't…" Narcissa began to refute, though a pointed look from Hermione gave her pause. She deflated beneath the gaze and glanced away. "I didn't want to."

Hermione was taken aback. She'd expected an argument or a deflection, _not_ an admittance of guilt. Narcissa was a pureblood; they never admitted to being in the wrong unless they had no other option.

"Your mother was a brilliant witch," the matriarch continued, a sigh of defeat escaping her, "And she could have easily become a potions master. She clearly knew what she was doing, but," she cleared her throat. "Some of her ideas were dangerous and if they fell into the wrong hands, they'd be disastrous."

"What do you mean?" Hermione demanded, wincing at the loud carry of her voice.

Narcissa peered about. "We shouldn't talk about this here. When you return to the manor for the holidays, we will talk. Yes?"

Hermione studied Narcissa critically. She wasn't wrong; talking about anything dark or dangerous in a town full of Hogwarts students and Aurors was a terrible plan, but Merlin, she wanted to understand. Was her mother _not_ the woman she thought she was?

Must everything be so complicated?

Pursing her lips, Hermione nodded. "Okay."

Narcissa exhaled in relief and smiled at the girl who was the daughter – not by blood, but by spirit - she'd always wished for. "Are you angry with me?" She was terrified Hermione would feel betrayed, but she really had done it with only the best intentions in her heart.

"No," Hermione reached across the table and squeezed Narcissa's arm, "But please don't lie to me again. I cannot handle any more dishonesty."

Nodding understandingly, Narcissa placed her hand atop Hermione's. "I won't."

Before Hermione could say anything else, the inn door burst open and Harry stormed inside, Tonks following behind with a stern expression twisting her features. She looked very unamused by his antics, muttering something to him that sent him into another fit. Ron wasn't too far behind them, watching Harry's rage wind down.

Narcissa chuckled. "I believe that's my cue to leave. I do not think Mr. Potter would be too happy to see me right now."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but rose from the table. "I wonder what has his knickers in such a twist."

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough," Narcissa mused, embracing the Gryffindor briefly. "Be safe."

"You too," Hermione murmured, savoring the feel of Narcissa's motherly affection. Oh how she'd missed the older woman. "Send Lucius and the others my love."

Watching Narcissa leave the inn made Hermione a bit saddened. She'd never been afraid when she left the Grangers so she could start her life at Hogwarts – had never really _missed_ them like she should've – but seeing the matriarch walk away left Hermione's stomach in knots. It was in moments like these that she realized how much of a family they'd become.

She moved to join Ron and Harry, but a familiar tingle crept up her spine.

_Bella…_

_I'm here_ , her lover's voice filled her head, a nervous twinge reverberating even through thought. _Hogsmeade is full of Aurors today, isn't it?_

Hermione nodded, though Bellatrix couldn't see it. _They're worried Father will attack while everyone is here._

She caught sight of Ginny venturing back into the inn, Draco noticeably absent. She didn't give it too much thought, but it struck her as odd. He was all too excited to spend time with Luna, so where was he now?

Sauntering over to Tonks, Hermione led the metamorphmagus away from the two boys and back outside into the chilly air.

"I need your help," she whispered, trying to be discreet without seeming apprehensive. The Aurors already thought she was trouble, why add to that?

"What do you need?" Tonks regarded the young woman before her inquisitively. She was acting stranger than usual and that was disconcerting.

"I need to get to the Shrieking Shack without alerting the Aurors." She tried to stop her fidgeting, but Hermione's hands still clenched and unclenched in time with her heartbeat.

_Are you sure you can trust her?_ Bellatrix asked.

_Hush, Bella._

Tonks considered Hermione for a minute. She'd never seen Hermione so haggard and desperate. It was so easy to forget how _young_ she'd been when all of this had started. "I should assume there's someone in there that you don't want anyone finding out about?"

Hermione hesitantly nodded.

Exhaling deeply, Tonks said, "Okay. I'll take care of it. But you shouldn't take too long. People will start to get suspicious."

"Thank you, Tonks. Really."

Smiling faintly at the girl, Tonks strolled off down the path towards the shack. Hermione watched her approach the two Aurors standing near the building. She gestured at them, her mouth moving though Hermione couldn't make out what she'd said, and they followed her back up the path into town.

When they were far enough away, Hermione nonchalantly wandered toward the shack and slipped inside. It was dark aside from the light streaming through the cracks in the walls and the shattered windows still not fixed.

"Bella?" she whispered.

There was a shuffling deeper in the shack and Hermione paused. She sent a silent prayer to the gods once thought to her by the Grangers that she wasn't walking headfirst into a trap. This she wouldn't be able to explain away.

Arms engulfed her waist from behind and Hermione squealed, spinning around and punching her attacker in the shoulder. She prepared a silent jinx, but hypnotizing cackles filled the air. Letting the magic drain away, Hermione came face to face with her smirking lover.

"Your instincts have gotten slow since your return to school," Bellatrix teased, rubbing the abused flesh of her shoulder.

Hermione smacked Bellatrix's arm – harder this time – and glared at the older woman. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, Bella! What were you thinking?"

Bellatrix grabbed Hermione's waist and tugged her close, pressing a kiss to her pouty lips. "I was just teasing, my love. I am truly sorry if I upset you."

Hermione melted into the embrace, burying her face in the side of Bellatrix's neck as she took in the scent that haunted her in her dreams.

"I've missed you so much," Hermione mumbled, kissing the pounding pulse point beneath her mouth.

"I missed you too, darling."

Sighing, Hermione leaned back, taking in the paleness of Bellatrix's cheeks and the dark circles under her eyes. She cupped her cheek, running a thumb along the closest bruise. "Bella…"

Bellatrix covered Hermione's hand with her own. "It's okay, love. I promise. I've just been busy."

"You need to sleep more," Hermione chided softly.

Bellatrix nuzzled her cheek against Hermione's hand, taking in her girlfriend's appearance. She looked cute in her oversized sweatshirt and muggle jeans. She wasn't a fan of the coloring – a maroon and gold combination would never suit her lover the way green and silver did – but still, she was cute.

"What did you need to tell me that you couldn't write about?" Bellatrix inquired, dragging Hermione over to a nearby chair. She settled into it, bringing Hermione onto her lap as she did so.

Getting comfortable in the embrace she'd longed for, Hermione sighed as she threaded her arms across Bellatrix's shoulders. "Dumbledore wants me to spy on Father for the Order."

Bellatrix tensed, her arms tightening around Hermione's waist. "That vile, inconsiderate bas –"

"I didn't tell him no," Hermione blurted, wincing when Bellatrix's grip grew painful. "I talked with Severus and he made a good point – if I say no, it'll only make the Order more suspicious of me. They're just now beginning to trust me again and if I tell Dumbledore no, then he'll just watch me closer and nothing good can come from that."

"So, what's your idea?" Bellatrix asked calmly, though her only slightly lessened grip showed how truly bothered by this she was.

Hermione swallowed dryly. "If I agree to help the Order, I can feed them false information. Or, at the very least, the smallest amount of information possible to keep them satisfied. That way I won't have to constantly watch my back as I wait for someone to stab me through it."

Bellatrix was silent, her labored breathing the only noise in the room. She hated the mere _thought_ of Hermione working for Dumbledore in any capacity, but the longer she considered the idea, the more sense it made. It would keep her lover safe – and that's what was supposed to matter most.

"Is he expecting the same of Draco?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't think he trusts what Draco might say to him. He trusts me, I assume. Or, he trusts that I fought on the side of good too long for me to be willing to turn my back on them. He can't say the same of Draco."

"Are you going to be okay acting as a double agent?" Bellatrix inquired gently, her arms going slack around her girlfriend's waist as the tension drained from her body. "Because you know the Dark Lord will expect you to relay what you know in return. If you don't, he might…"

"See it as me betraying him," Hermione finished with a nod. "I know. I've already thought about that. I will have to be okay with it, Bella. I don't have a choice. I either do this, or I paint a bigger target on myself and Draco at a time where we both cannot afford it."

Reaching up to comb her fingers through Hermione's hair, Bellatrix sighed. "I suppose this makes it easier for what comes next – at least my part."

Confused, but intrigued, Hermione stood up from Bellatrix's lap at the older woman's urging and sat down in the vacated chair. "Bella, what…"

Bellatrix pressed a slim finger to Hermione's lips and smiled anxiously. "Let me talk now, love."

Hermione kissed the digit keeping her quiet and nodded. She was terribly curious to see why Bellatrix was so apprehensive. It wasn't like her lover to get nervous; she was one of the most confident people Hermione had ever met. To see her so worried was baffling.

Bellatrix started pacing, a deep determination settling into her features. "My entire life, it has felt like something was missing. Marrying Rodolphus was one of my biggest regrets and it was because I knew deep down he wasn't the person I wanted to spend my life with. Being with him felt like I was cheating on someone, even though I had absolutely no idea _who_. Then I learned of the prophecy and everything made sense.

"I have loved you for a lifetime. I loved you long before we ever met and the day I met you, I knew that I would do anything to keep you. I would bring the world to its knees for you. I would do anything you asked of me because I love you and I know that we are forever."

A realization came over Hermione and she was certain she knew where this was going. Panic briefly gripped her chest, a million "what ifs" flashing through her mind, but it tapered off as quickly as it'd come. There was no one else in the world she wanted more than the woman before her. In a world crumbling around her, Bellatrix was the only thing that made sense.

The answer poised itself on the tip of her tongue as she waited for the inevitable question.

Bellatrix cleared her throat, fishing a ring out of the cleavage of her corset. If her little speech wasn't enough to convince Hermione to say yes, maybe showing off the goods a little would. "I want you, for the rest of my life. So," she lowered herself onto one knee in front of Hermione, staring unwaveringly into her wide, chocolate eyes. "Hermione Riddle, the light of my life and my better half, will you do me the honor of agreeing to spend the rest of your life with me?"

She presented the ring to Hermione. Her heart was pounding in her chest, threatening to drop into her stomach should Hermione say no. She hoped beyond hope that she'd say yes, but she couldn't help being terrified. Hermione had her whole life ahead of her. Would she really want to marry a woman over twice her age who'd been married before?

Trembling fingers reached out to touch the ring, examining it as Hermione choked back tears. Not of sorrow, but of sheer joy. Was she young? Yes. Would accepting Bellatrix's proposal add a few more challenges to her already complicated life? Probably. Could she imagine her life with anyone else?

Absolutely not.

"Yes," Hermione whispered, letting a few tears trickle down her cheeks as she cupped Bellatrix's face. She kissed the former Slytherin fiercely, pouring every ounce of love she had in her body into the gesture.

Bellatrix smiled, a few tears of her own working their way out into the light of day. "Yes?"

"Yes."


	15. Chapter 15

Something calming washed over Hermione as she fingered the ring. It was perfect; she'd had plenty of dreams - both as a child and as a teenager - about what kind of proposal she wanted and what rings she would find acceptable, but nothing had ever prepared her for a ring like this. Its dark stone lined with emeralds created a darkly beautiful twist that testified to their relationship.

"I've charmed it so you can wear it at Hogwarts if you want," Bellatrix said, watching her girlfriend cautiously. "You don't have to, but if you'd like to, you can."

Hermione smiled. She was amazed sometimes by how thoughtful Bellatrix could be. It was a contradiction to everything she'd heard from Sirius about his cousin, but he clearly had never known his cousin at all.

Or maybe he'd been jealous of her.

"Is there any way to reveal it those I want to?" Hermione wondered, holding out her hand.

Bellatrix grinned, sliding the ring onto her lover's finger. "Of course. Though I'm certain you'd figure out a way to do it even if I didn't tell you."

With a cheeky smile, Hermione cupped Bellatrix's cheek and brought their lips together. The angle of her on a chair and Bellatrix still kneeling gave her a height advantage, something she didn't have very often. She could taste Bellatrix's relief, the languid curl of her tongue against Hermione's dragging out a low moan.

The bang of the shack door flying open jerked them apart and Bellatrix's wand was in her hand in an instant, leveling it at the intruder. It only lowered when she noticed her haggard nephew closing the cracked wood behind him.

"What the hell, Draco?" Hermione panted, her knuckles white around the base of her wand that was housed in the pocket of her pants.

Draco was pale, blue eyes wide and tortured. "We need to go."

Concerned, Hermione rose from her chair and strolled over to the boy, eyeing him carefully. "What's wrong?"

Shaking his head, he locked their arms together and tried to drag her towards the door. "We have to go before she leaves?"

A noise of protest broke from Hermione's throat. She wasn't angry with him, just bewildered by his terrified state and a little irritated with being manhandled.

"Enough," Bellatrix snapped, standing up and stalking over to her nephew. She gripped his shoulder, halting his incessant tugging. "What is wrong?"

Draco finally froze, posture stiff as he stared at the door. He hadn't paid his aunt any mind when he'd slipped inside and now, hearing her voice, he didn't know what to do. The childish part of him wanted to curl up in Bellatrix's arms and tell her all his problems, but he was a man now, out to prove to her and the other Death Eaters he was fearless and strong.

He acknowledged the older woman with a jerk of his head. "Hello, Aunt Bella."

His hold on Hermione slackened and she freed herself from his grasp.

"Draco, what is wrong?" Hermione inquired, repeating her lover's earlier question.

Sighing heavily, Draco faced the couple, though Hermione had his full attention. "The necklace is on its way to where it needs to go, but we shouldn't be around when it does. People _still_ don't trust us and if we're nearby, they'll assume that we're somehow the culprits and neither of us need that."

Bellatrix's brows furrowed in confusion, but realization dawned on Hermione. She knew it would happen some time, though she hadn't expected it so soon. It dampened the excitement she'd felt, but she refused to let it ruin her ecstatic mood. She was engaged to the woman of her dreams; Dumbledore's imminent demise wasn't going to destroy that.

He opened his mouth to continue, but a stray beam of light caught the ring on Hermione's finger and he paused. Stepping closer, he grabbed Hermione's hand and held it up, examining the ring critically. "Is that…"

Hermione grinned, unable to stop her grin. "Yeah."

"When?"

Bellatrix wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist and they shared a gentle smile. "Before you burst in here like a madman, I asked Hermione to marry me and she said yes."

"Congratulations," Draco said, a brief uptick of his lips indicating he was indeed happy for them. He wanted nothing but the best for them.

Hermione's smile fell and she sighed. "I guess we need to go before…"

Draco nodded apologetically. "I wish you two had more time."

"Me too," Hermione admitted.

Looking at her girlfriend, Hermione tossed her arms around Bellatrix's shoulders and pulled her into a long, deep kiss. She wanted Bellatrix to know how much she adored her. She'd never loved someone the way she did Bellatrix. What she felt for her consumed every piece of her, flooding her with something she'd never be able to put into words. It was like freefalling but knowing that, at the end of it all, there would be something there to catch her.

It was a cliché, but oh so very true.

Draco glanced away to give them some privacy. It was obvious how much they cared about each other and he was honestly surprised it had taken them this long to get engaged. He was certain Bellatrix would've married Hermione the day she'd met her if she could've.

He frowned.

While gay marriages weren't illegal in the Wizarding World, it was still frowned upon, not that he expected his aunt to care much. He just couldn't help wondering what the other purebloods would think. Would they turn their backs on the Dark Lord should they learn about their marriage or would it reshape the way it was perceived? Having the most powerful dark wizard in the world supporting a homosexual union would surely be controversial.

Releasing her lover slowly, Hermione couldn't resist pecking her lips one final time. "I love you."

"And I you," Bellatrix replied with a morose smile. She wished they had more time, but she understood.

Hermione rubbed her thumb along the band of the jewelry. "I don't want to take this off."

"You won't have to," Bellatrix assured her, taking Hermione's hand in hers. "The charm Cissy and I created is stronger than a Disillusionment Charm. You simply wave your hand over it and say abscondam." She demonstrated and the ring disappeared from view. "No one other than the caster will be able to undo it and it makes whatever you charmed completely undetectable to others."

"How do you undo it?" Hermione asked curiously.

Bellatrix waved her hand in the opposite direction and it revealed itself to the room. "Simple, but effective."

"You are brilliant," Hermione breathed in awe.

Blushing, Bellatrix brushed off the praise. "You two should go. I don't really understand what you two are up to, but if leaving now keeps you safe, then go."

Embracing the older woman fiercely, Hermione buried her face in Bellatrix's shoulder. "Please stay safe."

"Always," Bellatrix promised, combing her fingers through Hermione's hair. "Now go."

Hermione swallowed hard and released her lover. She inched towards Draco, accepting his arm. If she didn't leave now, she never would. All she wanted was to curl up in Bellatrix's arms and forget about the world; enjoy their engagement.

But life was never that easy.

She did as Bellatrix had, watching disappointedly as it vanished before their eyes. She could still feel its solid weight on her finger, but it was disheartening to glance down and not see the thing that brought her so much joy. She could feel Bellatrix's eyes on her, knowing she felt the same.

With an apologetic smile, Draco led Hermione out of the shack and into the blistering cold. Her cloak and sweater did little to stop the fierce wind, leaving her shuddering with every step. She loved the cold; it was exhilarating and refreshing, but by Merlin sometimes it could be a little _too_ cold at Hogwarts.

They wandered along the path back towards the school, an uneasy silence between them. They knew what was coming and it made Hermione ill. She didn't ask how it was getting to the school or what he'd done; she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Leave me alone, Leanne!" Hermione heard Katie Bell shout a few paces behind them. She seemed agitated and _off._

Draco stiffened, tugging harder on Hermione's arm. He clearly wanted to get as far from the seventh year Gryffindor as possible, much to her confusion. As far as Hermione knew, the two Quidditch players had no issues between them. He'd never said anything derogatory about her and Katie was pleasant towards everyone so it was odd that Draco was so determined to get away from her.

There was a scuffle behind them and Hermione turned just in time to see Katie jerk a package out of Leanne's grasp. It fell open, something glittery touching Katie's hands before it tumbled to the ground. She watched, utterly transfixed and horrified as Katie rose up into the air. Her arms were outstretched and her mouth had fallen open, a faraway look in her eyes - her very, _very_ glazed over eyes.

A terrible shriek ripped from her throat and she began to seize, eyes rolling back in her head as she screamed. Leanne started screaming, trying to get her friend down but unable to. Hermione started toward them, but Draco stopped her with a sharp tug, shaking his head.

"We have to go," he whispered frantically, his skin paler than she'd ever seen. His baby blue gaze was full of horror.

Hermione couldn't look away, watching as a panicked Leanne was joined by Harry and Ron, both boys trying to drag her to the ground. "We have to help her…"

"We _can't_ ," Draco hissed, forcing Hermione to walk back to the school. "We can't."

"What did you do?" Hermione demanded once they were far enough away. She felt like a monster, walking away from Katie's convulsing body. She never left someone in need yet she had - and it felt so _wrong._

Draco stopped walking. "That wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to touch it! I gave her specific instructions not to! She was just supposed to take it to Dumbledore!"

"You gave her the necklace," Hermione stated with a questioning lilt, hoping she was wrong.

With a forlorn nod, Draco glanced away. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

In the distance they heard heavy, hurried footsteps. Hermione peered over her shoulder, taking in the sight of Hagrid carrying a despondent Katie in his arms. Her mouth was open in a permanent, silent scream and her eyes darted about, though Hermione had no idea what she was seeing.

It couldn't have been good.

He passed them without a word, Katie's limp body tucked into his chest. Draco released Hermione's arm and turned away, retching into the snowy bank behind them. He was disgusted by his actions, but he truly hadn't thought something like that would happen. He felt Hermione's hand on his shoulder and he shrugged it off.

He didn't deserve comfort; he was a monster.

"Come on. We should get back to the castle," Hermione murmured, leading the sick boy to Hogwarts.

Tears welled up in her eyes yet she refused to let them fall. She didn't have the right to cry. They'd done this to Katie. It may have been Draco's actions that caused it, but she'd willingly bought the necklace with him. She was just as condemnable as he was.

_I'm so sorry, Katie…_

-X-

News of Katie's move to St. Mungo's spread faster than anticipated and before the end of the day, everyone knew. Most people assumed Katie was the target, but Harry and Ron seemed to believe otherwise. They seemed to be eyeing Draco more readily, as though they expected him to pop up in the Great Hall and curse all of the students with a wave of his wand.

"I can't believe what happened to Katie yesterday," Ginny sighed, poking at the eggs on her plate. "I mean, who would do something like that to her? She's such a nice person…"

Hermione chewed on her lip. "She is."

"Harry seems to think Draco did it," Ginny admitted quietly, glancing over her shoulder at the dark-haired boy. "I told him he was barking, but you know Harry. Once he believes something, it takes an act of God to get him to listen to reason. I mean, I was with Draco most of the day yesterday. There's no way he could have done it."

Swallowing back bile, Hermione nodded. "They're grasping at straws. If Harry can't find an answer for something, his first person to blame is Draco."

"He really needs to get over his hatred for him. Draco's kind of nice in his own little way. He paid attention to everything Luna said yesterday – and I mean, _everything_. He asked questions, added his own thoughts on certain matters and helped her through the snow when she got stuck. It was sweet." Ginny grinned impishly.

"I'm glad," Hermione said honestly. "He deserves to be happy with someone."

Ginny's smile faltered. She'd barely seen Tonks the day before and it made her chest hurt. She had hoped to talk to the Auror for a minute, but it seemed life was against her.

"Hey," Hermione nudged Ginny affectionately, "It'll be okay. Things will work out the way they're supposed to in time."

Nodding, Ginny shoveled eggs into her mouth, trying to drown her sorrows in the school's well-crafted food. It would never be as good as home-cooked meals her mum made, but it was still good all the same.

A nasty tingle worked its way up Hermione's spine and she glanced up, catching Dumbledore's eye as he stared at her. She still hadn't given him her answer but what she'd told Bellatrix was true. It was far safer to act as a "spy" than to try and defy him. If she did, all of her actions would be questioned and she couldn't handle that. She was stressed out enough; dealing with Order nonsense would just make her life that much harder.

After breakfast, Hermione found herself outside of Dumbledore's office. She didn't want to be here, yet she knew she was out of time to stall. She was certain putting off answering for nearly a month was beginning to make her look suspicious.

Sighing deeply, she knocked.

"Come in," Dumbledore's overly cheerful voice called out, grating Hermione's nerves. She'd always thought he charmed the gargoyle to tell him who was at his stairs and his attitude just helped solidify that theory. Or maybe he pretended to be that cheerful all the time with everyone.

She couldn't be positive.

Opening the door, Hermione took a moment to compose herself. He was smiling at her like he knew her answer already and it irked her more than she wanted to admit. He acted like he knew the kind of person she was despite the fact he'd cared only about Harry Potter for the last five years. When had he pulled her aside to reach her? When had he brought Ron into his office just to ask how he was?

Never.

Hermione sank into the nearby chair. "Hello, Professor."

"Good morning, Ms. Riddle."

Exhaling quietly, Hermione steeled herself for what was about to happen. "I've thought about what we discussed and I've come to a decision."

"Of course. I was hoping you'd stop by soon. I know it's a hard choice to make - caught between loyalty to family and to the Order."

Hermione hated the smug way he was smiling. She briefly thought about telling him to fuck off, but she restrained herself. What did he know about loyalty? He wasn't a loyal man; he only cared about his cause. He didn't care if he destroyed lives in the process.

"It is hard," she admitted, "But I know what I must do. I will be a spy for the Order, but may I make a request?"

"Of course," he nodded, clasping his hands together on the desk. He would have agreed to just about anything if it meant he had another spy - a spy whose value rivaled that of Severus'.

"Can Professor Snape teach me Occlumency? If I am going to be surrounded by people who are well-versed in Legilimency, I will need to be capable of keeping myself safe from prying eyes and minds."

"That is a reasonable request," he agreed, nodding. "I shall inform Severus. You will have classes every Sunday, if that is acceptable?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Professor."

Dumbledore beamed. "Wonderful! I'm glad you've made the right choice."

Ignoring the nasty twisting in her stomach, Hermione forced a smile.

-X-

The next morning, Hermione found herself strolling to Herbology with Harry and Ron. He was talking about his meeting with Dumbledore the night before. He told them of the memory Dumbledore had shared with him, leaving Hermione with a lot to think about. Her father was an impressive wizard, even as a child, and it made sense. He was a powerful man; of course he would have been a powerful youth.

Class was an eventful affair. Their project for the year revolved around Snargaluff plants and they were not friendly. Hers had stolen her arm in its hole, forcing Harry and Ron to tug it back open so that she could drag the damned thing out.

"Ginny says Slughorn is having a Christmas party," Hermione said as she dropped the pod, "And apparently we've been invited. There's no getting out of it this time, Harry."

Ron rolled his eyes. " _Slug Club_. What a stupid name."

Hermione fought back the urge to thump Ron over the head with a bowl. Instead, she thumbed through her Herbology book in hopes of finding the proper way to juice the pod.

"She said we're allowed to bring guests," she continued absently.

Ron perked up, glancing at his fellow Gryffindor. "Really?"

Hermione hummed.

"Who are you thinking of taking?" Ron asked hopefully, sharing a look with Harry.

"I haven't the foggiest. I'll probably end up going by myself," she admitted, a noise of triumph bursting from her throat as she located what she'd been looking for.

Deflating, Ron muttered, "Why not hook up with McLaggen? You two could be King and Queen of the _Slug Club_."

Hermione froze before shooting Ron a dark look that made him shiver with thinly veiled fear. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing," he backtracked quickly, passing Hermione the pod.

The rest of the class went by without incident. Ron kept his comments to himself and Hermione's irritation slowly flowed away. He was acting so strange and it was really getting under her skin. It was like he was jealous, but of what, she couldn't tell. Maybe he wanted to be in the Slug Club because her only other theory was unthinkable.

There was no way he _liked_ her…

Right?

They parted ways after class. Harry was off to find Dean, knowing that he had no choice but to replace Katie until she was released from St. Mungo's. Hermione, determined not to be left alone with Ron, went searching for Draco. He'd opted out of NEWT level Herbology and she didn't blame him. She wasn't too excited for the class either but she wanted to take as many NEWT classes as possible - and it was one of them.

She found him in a hallway chatting with Crabbe and Goyle. He was animatedly waving his arms while they looked on with their usual, dumb expressions. Grabbing one of his jerking limbs, she directed him away from the pair, not sparing them a single glance.

"We need to talk."

Draco's eyes were wide, but he followed along dutifully. Her fierce expression was concerning.

They came to a stop before the Room of Requirement and Hermione waited for a moment. A door appeared and she dragged the Slytherin inside. The room was empty aside from a leather couch and a table and Draco took a seat, watching his friend pace in front of the table.

"Dumbledore is showing Harry memories of my father," she growled, stalking about like a predator. She reminded Draco so much of his aunt, the way she shook her head about, wavy locks flying, and wrung her hands together irritably.

"Why?"

"Harry doesn't know, or if he does, he isn't telling. What I don't understand is why Harry and _not me_. He's my father and I'm a spy yet I'm not privy to this information."

Draco hummed. "It's because he probably doesn't trust you yet. You'll have to prove yourself before he lets you in on these things. Or maybe he expects Harry to tell you and see how you react."

Hermione froze for a moment. "Huh."

Nodding, Draco shrugged. "Just be careful. I don't trust Potter."

"I don't either," Hermione admitted, "But I don't think this was a lie. It was too detailed and believable."

"Oh, I don't think he was smart enough to conjure this up by himself but we both know what Dumbledore is capable of. It wouldn't be impossible for him to make a fake memory."

Hermione sighed, flopping down onto the couch beside Draco. "All of this is so complicated. I can't trust anything anyone says." She paused. "Well, aside from you and Bella."

Draco wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "It will be okay. We'll get through this."

Hermione rested her head against him. "I know. It's just, when I first got my letter, the idea of being a witch and _special_ was so intriguing and enticing and all I had hoped for was a better life. I never expected to be thrust into a war, find out my parents weren't actually my parents, or learn that I had a soulmate who was the right hand of the Dark Lord himself."

Draco hummed.

He'd grown up with Death Eaters and dark wizards; he hadn't known any different. He sometimes forgot she hadn't. She'd had a muggle life before all of this. She'd hadn't spent her entire life knowing her father was famous and that some day she'd be caught up in a war.

"It'll be okay," he repeated.


	16. Chapter 16

Bellatrix stood before Ollivander, head tilted curiously as she studied the shivering old man. The manor's dungeon was freezing, its damp, dark walls reminding her of her cell in Azkaban. Before now, she hadn't managed to venture down into it, the memories too fresh and haunting, but her master had asked something of her and she was not going to disappoint him – even if it meant dredging up old feelings better left behind.

"Tell me where it is," she demanded, not elaborating on the _it_ in question. He wasn't an imbecile, he knew exactly what she wanted. He was stupid for denying them information, but not an idiot.

Ollivander trembled, his eyes darting about, refusing to look directly at the deranged Death Eater. Her reputation was wide-spread and well-known. She would simply kill him if he answered; his silence was the only thing guaranteeing his survival. They wouldn't murder him if they thought he was still useful to their cause.

Bellatrix bristled at his lack of response. She was under strict orders not to kill him, but a little pain was a great motivator. Drawing her wand, she leveled it at him. "Speak!"

He swallowed dryly, his mouth parched. They gave him only enough water and food to keep him alive, not enough to quench his thirst and overwhelming hunger. He'd lost quite a bit of weight since his capture, but they didn't care. He was only needed until he finally gave in and told them what they wanted to know.

He couldn't, though. He wouldn't betray himself and the people of the Wizarding World just so he could finally have respite from their torturous ways. He would remain resilient against them, even if it meant he would lose his sanity.

"Crucio!"

Fire flooded his veins, a strangled cry ripping from his throat as Bellatrix's magic burned him from the inside out. Her propensity for dark spells was evident as she held him under the curse for what felt like centuries, leaving him a sweaty, panting mess once he was released.

"Tell me!" she shouted, glaring at the man who'd been such a staple in Diagon Alley. She herself had gotten her wand from him when she was a child and watching him break made her slightly ill. She'd hoped he would talk so she could finally put him out of his misery yet he still defied her.

He bowed his head, saying nothing.

"Fine," she sneered, "I guess we shall do this the hard way."

-X-

Venturing out of the dungeon hours later, Bellatrix sighed. They'd gone back and forth for hours, Bellatrix demanding answers he never gave. She'd tried bargaining with him – offering him more food and water should he cave and tell her what she wanted to know – but that hadn't worked. She tried torturing it out of him but that, too, failed. He wasn't going to tell them anything; that much was obvious.

She'd only relented when he was barely conscious and quivering, a mass of limbs and pale skin. He was no good to her if he went crazy and the Dark Lord would be less than pleased if he lost his mind. She shuddered at the mere idea of what he'd do to her.

Walking through the manor, Bellatrix let her mind wander. The last few days had been a blur; all she could think about was Hermione saying yes to her proposal. It was like a weight was taken from her chest, letting her breathe a little easier. The person who meant the most to her had agreed to marry her; wanted to spend the rest of their lives together.

It was a daunting thought, though.

Could she make her lover happy for the rest of their lives? Would Hermione grow bored of her too? She was a brilliant witch and Bellatrix was a murderer ; a deranged follower of a man hellbent on destroying the Wizarding World so he could reconstruct it in a way he saw fit. Hermione could do anything – _be_ anything – she wanted to. Why would she settle down with a murderess twice her age?

Banishing those negative thoughts away, Bellatrix strolled into the sitting room. She found her sister there, combing through one of her many potions books. She'd been doing that a lot recently, her nose always buried in the pages of a tomb. She didn't know why and Narcissa didn't offer any explanation. She'd only reply, "Because one cannot better themselves too much, Bella," when Bellatrix inquired about her newfound interest in the books she'd read a number of times before.

"Are you alright?" Narcissa asked as she caught sight of Bellatrix, dog-earring her book before setting it aside.

Bellatrix slumped into a nearby chair, shaking her head. "Not really."

"Did Mr. Ollivander…?"

"No," Bellatrix growled, eyes dark with rage. "He refuses to say anything and the Dark Lord is going to be angry. What good am I if I cannot do what he asks of me?"

Narcissa pursed her lips. She couldn't stand what the Dark Lord had done to her sister. Bellatrix would have never doubted herself as a child yet, under his thumb, she felt she couldn't do enough to keep the dark wizard pleased. She admired him, but she also feared him – feared what he was capable of should he turn on her like he'd done so many times to others – and it showed.

Narcissa would never admit it out loud, but she hated Voldemort. Hated what he stood for and what he'd done to her family. He'd stolen the best parts of Bellatrix the moment he took her under his wing and now he was planning to destroy what was left of her son's youth.

The only good thing he'd ever given them was Hermione and sometimes Narcissa feared it wouldn't be enough to fix what was shattered inside Bellatrix.

She brought out the best in her sister, but when it mattered most, would she be able to save the eldest Black? If Hermione turned on the Dark Lord, would her sister follow or would she turn on the girl? She knew how much Bellatrix loved Hermione, but did she love her more than she loved the idea of Him?

Sending a silent prayer to whoever might be listening, she prayed Bellatrix would find the will to leave him if it came down to losing him or losing Hermione.

"What are you going to do?" Narcissa wondered, eyeing the older woman. "Veritaserum maybe?"

"That's only helpful if he actually _talks_ ," Bellatrix grunted. "And the Dark Lord does not know if he's capable of resisting the potion or not. That's what makes this so troubling. I have already suggested that to Him, but he believes Ollivander will crack eventually."

"What do _you_ think?"

"I think that no matter what he tells, it might be a lie," Bellatrix said. "He knows that if he talks, he is as good as dead to the Dark Lord, so why talk?"

Narcissa hummed in agreement. "Maybe offer him something in return?"

"What? His _release_? Not likely."

Bellatrix rubbed her hands across her face, a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was dreading telling the Dark Lord she was unsuccessful. She could only hope he gave her a second chance, though he wasn't exactly known for 'second chances'.

Brushing her fingers along the ugly black marring her pale skin, Bellatrix sighed. The day she earned her Mark was supposed to be the happiest moment of her life. She'd proven herself, not only to the Dark Lord, but to her father. He'd never looked at her with such pride written across his harsh features before.

But things changed.

 _She_ had changed.

Her father was long gone, buried in a tomb tucked somewhere she didn't care to find, his opinions and abuse meaning very little now that he was in the grave. She was no longer in a loveless marriage with a man she couldn't stand, waiting for one of his many vices to end his pathetic existence. And her world, which once revolved around the man who'd offered her freedom, now lied in a young woman she'd never expected to find.

Was her worth only found in that Mark on her forearm or could she be more than just the disturbed witch everyone believed her to be?

She shook her head. She'd done quite a bit of thinking since she left Hermione in Hogsmeade and it had gotten her nowhere. Her thoughts only seemed to drag her into dangerous territory. She wasn't even sure _why_ she pondered such troubling things. Contemplating her self-worth had never been her style, yet she couldn't help it nowadays.

Narcissa watched the brief flashes of emotion crossing her sister's features. It was disconcerting. She could see the turmoil in Bellatrix's eyes, knew something was bothering her, but she didn't know how to address it. With the chaotic, volatile nature of Bellatrix's emotions, it could be dangerous should Bellatrix explode.

A burning sensation shot up Bellatrix's arm. "He is calling me."

Narcissa winced sympathetically. They both knew what it was like to be on the other end of his wand - and it wasn't pretty.

Bellatrix rose from her seat and trudged towards the door, head bowed. She could only hope he wasn't _too_ disappointed in her.

Narcissa stared after her sister as she disappeared, her lips pressed into a thin line. She grabbed her book and opened it to the page she'd dog-earred. She'd been combing through her old tombs, hoping to find something that could help Bellatrix and Hermione in these troubled times, but her search had offered few solutions. Kathryn's recipes were helpful, but most of them were only cures to ailments. They wouldn't provide any solutions to her problems.

She wondered if Hermione would let her comb through Kathryn's library and study. She was certain that what she'd given Narcissa wasn't all Kathryn had to offer. She was an exception witch; why would she stop at just a few pieces of parchment?

Summoning a blank piece of paper, Narcissa began to scribe a letter to Hermione.

-X-

Lying in bed that night, Bellatrix shuddered. She could still feel her body trembling from the punishment she'd received for her failures. She could still see the displeasure in beady red eyes as he leveled his wand at her, a familiar curse falling from pale lips. He was a master of curses and to be on the receiving end of one meant blinding pain. Her body had convulsed and throbbed for hours afterwards. She'd only managed to pick herself up after he was gone, her figure protesting all movement.

Whimpers broke from her throat as another wave of pain crept up her spine. She hated his reprimands – hated feeling like a failure. She'd devoted her entire _being_ to the man. Did that mean so little? Why did he treat her like some common Death Eater when she was his most loyal?

Rolling over in bed, Bellatrix cuddled up with Hermione's pillow, breathing in the lingering scent of her lover. She'd charmed it, hoping to preserve the smell for as long as possible and so far it had worked. It brought back memories that helped drown out the pain inflicted upon her. She could imagine Hermione's hair fanned out along the cloth, fists balling up the sheets as her back arched in pleasure.

It was one of the few memories she held onto when she felt lonely in the nights. She ached for her lover, missing the way her body curled around Bellatrix's protectively as they slept. She missed those moments. She hadn't realized how much they meant to her until they were gone.

_Oh Hermione, how I miss you…_

Bellatrix buried her face into the pillow and tried to sleep, ignoring the twinge of her muscles every few seconds. If she ignored them, maybe they'd go away.

_I hope tomorrow is a better day._

-X-

"I have a mission for you," Voldemort started, staring at the woman before him. "One you ought not to fail."

A mere day had passed since her punishment and she was desperate to prove herself to the Dark Lord. She would do whatever it took to get back within his good graces. She'd destroy an entire town if it meant he didn't look at her with such disdain anymore.

"There is a witch living in muggle London I want you to follow. Find out as much as you can about her. She is of the utmost importance to us."

Bellatrix nodded. She hated anything involving muggles – especially muggle London – but she'd do whatever he asked, even if it meant dealing with _them_. She'd live amongst them if he asked right now.

She was just glad he wasn't asking that of her.

He gave a brief description of the woman and dismissed Bellatrix from his sight, sending her away. He hoped she would not fail him again, for her sake. This mission was for her despite the fact she didn't exactly know that. He hadn't really wanted to punish her – he _knew_ Ollivander wouldn't break – but he couldn't let her off with just a warning. She needed to learn to succeed under impossible circumstances. That's how one survived a war such as this.

Rummaging through some of the things she'd brought back from Paris, Bellatrix tossed on a pair of jeans and a black sweater. She adorned her nicest cloak and wrapped it around her figure. She was thankful she'd thought to grab a few things, even if she was only needing them because of the Dark Lord's wishes.

Apparating from the manor, she found herself outside of a pub in London. It was packed full of people despite the fact it was barely noon. She could hear them cheering loudly about _something_ and she just managed to contain an eye roll.

Muggles were such peculiar creatures – and she fucking _hated_ them.

She caught sight of a woman fitting the Dark Lord's description stumbling out of the pub, her leather jacket barely keeping out the chilly fall air. Her dark hair fell in waves around her face, chocolate eyes scouring the streets as she took off down the sidewalk. She weaved in and out of crowds, strolling through London as though she knew it like the back of her hand.

_For once, luck must be on my side._

Following close behind, Bellatrix watched as they passed muggle clothing shops and a few eateries that she took note of. If Hermione ever wished to venture into London, she supposed she could take Hermione to one of them. Some didn't look half bad, though she preferred to never step foot in muggle London again if possible.

She kept her distance, but when the other woman ducked into an alleyway, Bellatrix had no choice but to chase after her. She couldn't afford to lose her. She only hoped that this woman was the person she was searching for, otherwise she just wasted precious, valuable time.

Slipping into the alley, Bellatrix barely avoided the spell barreling towards her. She reflected it back at its owner, smirking as the witch dived out of the way, the rogue spell lighting a pile of trash behind the woman and catching it on fire.

It crackled quietly, but they paid it no mind.

The witch stood up, dusting off her pants as she glared at Bellatrix. "Why are you following me?"

"I was told to," Bellatrix answered nonchalantly, a maniacal grin tugging at her lips.

The other woman's eyes narrowed. "I know who you are. You're Bellatrix Lestrange…"

"Black," she corrected tersely, her smile falling away. She hated that name; hated the way it rolled off this stranger's tongue like poison.

"Whatever," the woman sneered, rolling her eyes. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you following me?"

"My master asked me to find you. I," Bellatrix paused. "Well, actually, I don't really know why."

The woman snorted. "You just do whatever he says, no questions asked?"

Bellatrix bristled. How dare this woman mock her? She knew her name, but did she know what Bellatrix was capable of? "Watch yourself, girl."

"Girl? Who are you calling girl? I'm older than you!" the woman said indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. She was clearly agitated and Bellatrix wondered if she'd attack again.

Bellatrix froze. There was no way this woman was older than her. She looked like she was barely thirty-five, if even that.

The woman seemed to realize what she'd said and she, too, paused. She hadn't meant to say that. She really needed to learn how to keep her mouth shut. Elizabeth always said she had no filter and she'd just proven her wife right.

"Fuck."

Before Bellatrix could respond, the woman disappeared as though she'd never been there to begin with. If it wasn't for the sizzling trash nearby, she would've thought she'd hallucinated the entire encounter. With a wave of her hand, the small fire was extinguished, leaving behind only the thinnest trickle of smoke heading up to the sky. She still didn't understand how the woman was older than her, but she obviously wasn't going to get the chance to ask.

With a sigh, Bellatrix dissolved into a dark cloud before Apparating out of the alleyway and back to the manor. It was deserted for once, all of the Death Eaters either on missions or out filling one of their many vices. She couldn't help but wonder why this mission had fallen upon her. The others were more than capable of hunting someone down.

Was the Dark Lord _that_ displeased with her?

Hanging up her cloak, Bellatrix glanced about. It was odd, being alone in the manor. She would never admit it, but it made her feel utterly alone, like being in Azkaban again. While she wasn't always milling around with the other Death Eaters, it was nice having them fill the silence.

"Bella, you're back," Narcissa smiled from the top of the stairs, delighted to see her sister unscathed. It wasn't often that Bellatrix returned from a mission unharmed and she cherished those moments. Healing her sister wasn't the highlight of any of her days.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Bellatrix nodded. "Is the Dark Lord here?"

"He was earlier, but left after he sent Lucius out." She raised her hand to stop the inevitable question. "No, I have no idea what his plans for Lucius were."

Bellatrix had suspected as much. "I figured. Shall he be back tonight?"

"I haven't a clue," Narcissa shrugged. "Did you find whatever you were looking for?"

Pursing her lips, Bellatrix nodded hesitantly. "Yes and no. I found the witch I was looking for but I have more questions than answers right now as to _why_ I was supposed to find her."

Coming down the stairs, Narcissa studied the former Slytherin inquisitively. "What do you mean?"

Bellatrix led Narcissa into the library and closed the door behind her, locking it. She paced about as she explained the odd encounter with the witch. She gestured wildly as she remembered the spell flying at her, almost impressed the woman had dared to attack her. Granted, she hadn't known who Bellatrix was at the time, but still…

To challenge a Death Eater took balls.

Narcissa listened intently, tucking her legs beneath her on the couch as she thought over what Bellatrix had told her. She had her theories, but she wasn't going to state them aloud. It was best for her sister to figure it out on her own.

"There is no way this _girl_ was older than me," Bellatrix reiterated, sitting down beside Narcissa.

"I believe you, Bella," Narcissa assured her, patting her sister's wringing hands. "It will be alright. I'm certain the Dark Lord will offer an explanation when the time is right."

"I hope so," Bellatrix murmured, taking comfort in the presence of Narcissa. It had been so long since they had a moment to themselves. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to sit and just _exist_ with the Malfoy matriarch without others around.

Leaning her head back, Bellatrix closed her eyes, drifting off into a tentative slumber.

Narcissa watched the tension leave Bellatrix's body as she fell asleep and frowned. Her sister was so exhausted these days and it bothered her greatly. She wondered how much sleep she was actually getting or if she was managing to sleep at all. The circles beneath her eyes were so dark, contrasting heavily with her pale skin.

She hoped it would get better for her, but deep down, she knew it only got harder from here.

-X-

Bellatrix found herself standing before the Dark Lord for the second time in two days. He was seated in a chair in the library, eyeing her thoughtfully as she uncertainly sat across from him on the couch.

"Did you do as I instructed?" he asked.

"Yes, my Lord. I found her outside a pub in London."

"And?"

Bellatrix swallowed dryly. "I followed her into an alleyway a few streets over. We exchanged words and then she disappeared before I could get too much information from her."

He nodded expectantly. "I assumed something like that would happen. She's a fast witch, that one."

Hesitantly, Bellatrix inquired, "Who is she, my Lord?"

"Have you not figured it out yet, Bella?"

Bellatrix faltered. "No, my Lord."

He hummed, rising from his chair. He grabbed a book from the table and handed it to her. _Dark Bondings_ was scribbled across the front, cursive letters faded from time. She'd seen Hermione reading the book occasionally over break, but hadn't paid it much mind. She was certain Hermione would have told her if she'd found something of interest.

Carefully, she opened the book and peered inside.

_When mates are bound by soul, they will become similar. In battle, in life – they complete the other in ways no one on Earth can. Their powers shall increase, becoming resilient and unwavering in the face of danger. With the ability to find their lover anywhere in the world – break even the strongest of anti-Apparation spells with just the simplest of mindsets. Emotions and thoughts will become second nature and whatever gifts bestowed upon them will be shared._

_Examples:_

_Marney and Claude Whiddleton – the ability to see every possible outcome of the future._

_Davin and James Harper – the ability to find weakness in creatures and humans. In battle, they were a force of reckoning. Grindelwald defeated James in a duel; Davin died three days later._

_Hannah and Ashton Clarke – gifted with the perfect aim. Could shoot an arrow with perfect precision and calculate exactly how to hit their target. Also had the ability to read an opponent's next move and plan accordingly._

_Elizabeth and Faith Lehane – given the ability to detect magic creatures and gifted with impressive strength and agility. Records show that both women are still alive, though much isn't known about them._

Bellatrix's face screwed up thoughtfully, her eyes flitting across the page. "My Lord…?"

"The woman I had you following was Faith Lehane," he explained, "She and her lover Elizabeth are from the States, but moved here after the First Wizarding War. I had Alecto and Amycus do a little digging before I sent you to find her. They've been in hiding for some time now and I was beginning to lose hope that they would ever catch wind of her, but alas, Alecto and Amycus are not as useless as some of the others might suppose.

"It is my understanding that they are the last soulmates still alive in the Wizarding World. I believe it is in yours – and Hermione's – best interest if you were to talk with them. They might shed some light on your unique predicament."

Bellatrix's breath caught in her throat. She stared hard at the text before her, trembling fingers tracing along their names. They held the key to everything; had answers only they could provide.

"Of course, I do have some ulterior motives," he admitted, returning to his seat. "I am hoping, should you find them, that you might be able to convince them to join our side of the war. Having two pairs of soulmates would guarantee our _victory_."

Stunned, Bellatrix's eyes rose to meet his.

There was something glinting there; something she'd never really seen before. He never showed emotions, believing them to mean weakness, but there, before her very eyes, he looked gleeful. He looked at her like she was a gift bestowed upon him by the gods - like she could solve all of his problems with just one conversation.

Bellatrix's gaze fell to the book once more.

 _Maybe I_ am _more than just my Mark._

"Will you do this for me, Bella? Be my champion to those who understand what being powerful truly means?"

Bellatrix nodded.

"Yes, my Lord."


	17. Chapter 17

The first Quidditch match of the season brought Hermione great frustration.

Ron had been acting ridiculous, going so far as to yell at Ginny and Demelza Robin during their practices beforehand, leaving the poor girl in tears and Ginny threatening to thump him with a bat. It wasn't even _her_ bat, but that didn't matter. He needed an ass-kicking and she was more than happy to be the one handing it out.

Hermione didn't know where his newfound aggression came from and she didn't care. He needed to stop being a prat _immediately_. Between him bitching about quitting and randomly lashing out at his friends, Hermione herself was ready to smack him.

It didn't help that their first match was against Slytherin. Draco had been prepping his team for the match, determined to beat Gryffindor, so Hermione was caught between which friend she was supposed to cheer for. If she cheered for Slytherin, she'd be ostracized even more by her house, but if she didn't, she was afraid it would hurt Draco's feelings.

Being caught between a rock and a hard place was not Hermione's favorite place to be stuck. No matter what she did, she'd lose.

She settled onto the bench beside Harry during breakfast, eyeing the weary-looking Ron. He looked depressed, which in hindsight, was better than him raging at them. He was picking at his food, sick to his stomach about the idea of the upcoming game.

"Cheer up, Ron, you'll do fine," Hermione said encouragingly.

Ron rolled his eyes. "No I won't. Besides, what does it matter? You'd be happy if I played bad because then _Draco_ wins."

Hermione opened her mouth with a nasty retort on her tongue, but a calming hand on her arm stopped her. Harry shook his head, hoping to stop the impending argument. He just wanted them to get along, was that too much to ask for?

While Hermione was busy glaring at the redhead across from her, Harry pulled out a small vial and poured the contents into a glass of pumpkin juice before handing it to Ron. He wasn't actually going to waste his bottle of liquid luck on a _match_ but if it gave Ron a confidence boost, he'd pretend anyways. Ron didn't need to know the truth.

Glancing over at Harry, Hermione was horrified to see him tucking an empty vial into his pocket.

" _Harry_!" she hissed, staring hard at the boy. "What have you done?!"

Ron glanced between the glaring pair, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Don't drink that," Hermione barked, her cool gaze falling on Ron. Silently, she implored him to listen.

Defiantly, Ron lifted the drink to his lips. Harry nodded and the redhead took a long swig of his juice. If Harry said do it, he would. He trusted him implicitly. Something warm settled in the pit of his belly and Ron smiled widely. His anxieties of the upcoming game drained away and suddenly he felt much more confident in himself.

"You could get expelled for that," Hermione whispered, locking eyes the Chosen One. Of all the nasty, underhanded things Harry had done in the past, this was truly the worst. Risking everything for a simple game of _Quidditch_? What was he thinking.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied through gritted teeth, daring her to say something else. She didn't understand; she never had. Quidditch was one of the few things he could control and he was determined to win at all costs.

Shaking her head in disgust, Hermione rose from the table and stormed away. She couldn't believe him – doing something so underhanded and dirty.

_I guess he really is becoming a member of the Order._

-X-

The stands were full of cheering students when Hermione finally ventured to the pitch. She'd gone off in search of Draco, but he was nowhere in sight. He was probably off preparing for the game, but she'd been hoping to give him a heads-up. She wasn't going to let Harry off for cheating if she could help it.

She found Luna among the students on the stands, her lion headdress impossible to miss. She saw Blaise and Pansy waving at her, but she ignored them and opted to sit next to the eccentric Ravenclaw. She couldn't imagine sitting with Pansy. She'd probably want to claw out her own eyes before the match was over.

She'd rather be subjected to Luna's odd headwear than Pansy's voice.

"Good morning," Hermione greeted, rubbing her mitten-clad hands together.

"It's a wonderfully cold morning, isn't it?" Luna replied airily, smiling at her friend.

"It is a bit cold," Hermione acknowledged, eyeing the odd lion on Luna's head. "Might I ask why you're wearing…?"

Luna laughed. "Oh this?" She pointed to the top of her head. "I wanted to show my support for Gryffindor."

Hermione hummed.

"I do feel a bit odd wearing it," she admitted. "I want to support Draco too but I don't have anything green or silver and a snake headpiece would surely be too weird."

Interest piqued, Hermione glanced at Luna. "Really?"

"Of course. He's our friend and quite the Quidditch player. He's really something to watch. He clearly puts his whole heart into the game. It's nice, isn't it?"

Chuckling, Hermione nodded. He really was an impressive player. He had the speed and precision that most of the other Seekers - aside from Harry - lacked. They were pretty well matched and it was always an interesting game when Slytherin played Gryffindor.

Watching the two teams fill the stadium, Hermione was confused to see Harper, Slytherin's back-up Seeker, on the field instead of Draco.

"Where's Draco?" Luna voiced the question swirling about Hermione's mind. "I wouldn't think he'd willingly miss the first game of the season. I do hope he's okay."

"I have no idea," Hermione murmured, peering over her shoulder at Pansy and Blaise. They looked just as confused as she felt.

The game started, the two teams kicking off from the ground and flying into the sky. The new announcer, Zacharias Smith, made snide remarks from the start, sending jabs at Ron and Harry whenever he could. Hermione didn't understand _why_ he hated Gryffindor - and Harry - so much, considering he was a Hufflepuff, but he and Harry had butted heads from the start and it showed.

He continuously attacked Gryffindor's team, making comments about why there were two Weasleys on the team instead of one. He pondered if they were only there because of their friendship with Harry and it irked Hermione greatly. Ginny had earned her place on that team and Ron, despite his many flaws, wasn't a bad Keeper by any means. He'd managed to save every ball thrown at him - but Hermione chalked that up to the liquid luck flowing through his veins.

He moved on to insulting the other players and Hermione briefly considered hexing the boy. If he didn't shut his mouth soon, she probably _would_. She didn't need her wand to hex him after all.

Luna cheered for Gryffindor every time they scored, but her heart didn't seem like it was in it at all. She'd been hoping to see Draco play too. It worried her that he was absent from the match. She hoped he was okay.

The moment Harry caught the Snitch, the Gryffindor fans lost their minds, shouting so loud that it drowned out the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle. Hermione watched, fascinated, as Ginny shot past the other players and into the announcer's podium, knocking it over and leaving behind a dazed Zacharias. She said something to McGonagall that Hermione couldn't hear and cackled before landing on the pitch.

Hermione shook her head. Her best friend was ridiculous. She just destroyed the commentator's booth and all she did was laugh. Only Ginny could get away with something like that.

The teams left the field and the spectators followed, slowly trickling out of the stands. Hermione considered waiting for Ron and Harry to emerge from their changing room, but she was still annoyed with Harry so she decided against it. All she would do is berate them and that wasn't something she wanted to do again. If Harry was going to do something like that, then she really had nothing to say to him.

Wandering back to the castle, she just barely caught sight of Draco standing near the main doors. He looked proud despite the fact his team had lost and he gestured for Hermione to join him.

"Where were you today?" she inquired, giving him an onceover. She'd been concerned he might be sick, but he looked healthier than normal. The circles beneath his eyes were lighter and the paleness of his skin was almost back to normal.

"I had something to tend to," he said with a shrug.

Hermione crossed her arms. "Which was?"

"I figured now was the perfect time to mend the cabinet while everyone was out," Draco replied quietly, his gaze falling upon the crowd venturing inside.

Hermione frowned. They'd been mending the cabinet for weeks now and – while it was slowly coming together – they hadn't managed to completely fix it yet. "You should have told me. I would have come with you."

Draco shook his head. "That would have looked suspicious. It's bad enough that I wasn't there today. If you'd disappeared too, Potter would have certainly thought something was up."

Nodding, Hermione silently agreed with him. It would have looked a bit odd considering her best friend was playing along with Harry and Ron. "Well, I'm happy to report that Luna _definitely_ was upset you weren't playing today. She kept looking for you even after the match began."

Draco perked up. "Really?"

"Really," Hermione said, laughing at his hopeful expression. She patted him on the shoulder. "See, I told you that you might stand a chance after all. Maybe you should go find her and tell her you're alright."

He nodded. "I'll see you later."

She watched him disappear into the sea of students and sighed. She prayed things would work out for them. She wanted him to be happy. She wanted _all_ of her friends to be happy. They deserved it after all the bullshit they'd been put through.

After the crowd dispersed, Hermione noticed Ginny walking towards her, a pleased grin on her face.

"We're throwing a celebration in the common room. You should come," Ginny announced, locking arms with Hermione. "C'mon."

Digging her heels into the floor, Hermione shook her head. "Gin, I don't think I'm very welcome in the common room. I haven't been in there this entire year."

"Well, you're a Gryffindor too and you should be celebrating with us," Ginny argued, tugging on Hermione's limb. "Please? For me?"

Hermione sighed heavily. "Fine, but if this goes horribly, I'm blaming you."

Laughing, Ginny started off toward the Gryffindor common room. "When did you become such a pessimist?"

"When did you become such an optimist?" Hermione fired back, though her comment held no malice.

"In such troubled times, you have to be nowadays," Ginny replied with a shrug.

The party was in full swing when they arrived. People congratulated Ginny when they walked inside, barely sparing Hermione a glance. She appreciated that; all she wanted was to spend time with her friends, not end up in another dramatic showdown with one of her Housemates. There had been enough of that the year before.

She found Harry standing off to the side surrounded by adoring fans. The Creevey brothers stood among the giggling girls, trying to get Harry to notice them. They were sweet boys, if not a bit peculiar. Harry seemed rather uncomfortable with all the attention, so Hermione was quick to wade through the crowd and stand beside him. Noticing her, most of the girls wandered off, though a few stayed nearby in case she decided to leave.

"Thank you," Harry sighed with relief. "I thought they'd never go away."

Laughing, Hermione clapped him on the shoulder. "You should be used to all the attention by now."

"That doesn't mean I have to enjoy it," he countered with a grin, leading them over to the drink table. He grabbed a butterbeer, offering another one to Hermione. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"Ginny invited me…"

"And no one can ever say no to Ginny," Harry said, finishing her thought.

"Exactly."

Hermione took a sip of her butterbeer and glanced about. Ron was in the center of the room fending off Lavender who seemed intent on kissing him. She was making moon-eyes at him and chattering away, much to his annoyance.

"You'd think he'd be happy," Hermione commented, "Considering he's the hero of the hour."

Harry shrugged. "He's really not all that interested in Lavender. I think after last year he's kind of tired of her."

"She is a bit stalkerish, isn't she?"

They shared a look before chuckling.

Hermione frowned, sobering up a bit as she studied Harry. "You really shouldn't have done that, you know. You could both be expelled for that."

Harry fished something out of his jeans pocket before setting it in Hermione's hand. She peered down at it, noting the golden liquid glinting in the light.

"You didn't give it to him." Realization dawned on her and she smiled. Harry wasn't a cheater after all. Maybe he wasn't as underhanded as she'd thought.

"Exactly," Harry replied, accepting the vial back from Hermione. He deposited it back into his pocket and returned his attention to the party. His gaze fell to Ginny who was standing with Dean, the boy animatedly waving his arm as they discussed the game.

Hermione followed his line of sight and bit back a snicker. Harry's crush on Ginny was so obvious. It was going to destroy him if he found about Ginny's crush on Tonks.

"He's such a slick git," Harry grumbled, drinking from his bottle.

"Dean is perfectly nice," Hermione argued. "He's even on the team!"

"Yeah, but do you see the way he fawns all over her?"

Hermione snorted. "Like you do?"

Harry jerked in surprise, sending Hermione a startled look. "Huh?"

"Harry, I'm not stupid. You _like_ Ginny."

Harry blinked, glancing away from the other Gryffindor. He'd thought he was pretty good at hiding his feelings for the youngest Weasley but if Hermione caught on, had the others? He can't imagine Ron would be too happy with him if he found out.

"Am I that obvious?" Harry whispered.

"To me? Yes. To the others? Probably not."

"Thank God," he murmured, wiping a hand over his face. He took another swig of his butterbeer and looked away from Ginny.

Hermione sighed sympathetically. Harry wasn't inherently a bad guy. He was just a boy caught up in a war that he had no business being a part of. She could sympathize with that. He just didn't know he was barking up the wrong tree. Ginny wasn't interested in anybody but Tonks and that wasn't going to change for a while – if ever.

Cheers erupting around the room dragged Hermione from her thoughts and she turned her attention to the center of the room. Lavender was kissing Ron and by the looks of it, Ron wasn't too upset by it. His hands were on her hips and she was certain she saw a bit of tongue passing between them.

Her face screwed up in disgust.

"He isn't into her, you know," Harry offered.

"I don't really care," she admitted. "He's free to do whatever he pleases, even if it's with _her_."

Harry couldn't tell if her tone was jealousy or simply disgust because of the grotesque display of PDA. He was fairly certain Ron's hands were drifting far too low to be considered appropriate and it made his stomach turn.

Hermione rolled her eyes and politely excused herself from the common room. It hurt, seeing Ron with Lavender. Not because she had feelings for the boy, mind you, but because it cropped up bad memories. They'd both tormented her the year before and seeing them together again only reminded her that Ron would turn on her in an instant.

She sighed.

_At least he'll leave me alone now._

-X-

Tucked away in her room, Hermione raised the charm from her ring and stared at it. She hadn't really gotten a chance to let it sink in what had happened. She'd been engaged for a little longer than a week, but with classes and Ron's horrid behavior, she hadn't gotten much time to herself. She'd been too busy pouring through notes and fending off snide comments.

It shined in the low candlelight and she watched the flames dance over the black diamond. It was quite pretty in a haunting sort of way. It was lovely, though. She couldn't have picked a better ring to describe their relationship if she tried. The emeralds were a nice touch, making sure the diamond itself wasn't too harsh.

She'd wear it proudly when the time came.

The knock on her door barely registered and she called out for whoever it was to enter. She assumed it was Draco, considering he was the only person who ever visited her this late. She was rather surprised when Ginny strolled in with a look of revulsion marring her features. She hurriedly tucked her hand beneath her leg.

"I swear, if he gets Lavender pregnant, Mum will kill him," Ginny growled, pacing in front of Hermione's bed. She wasn't paying any attention to the Gryffindor hiding her hand, more concerned with ranting about her hormonal brother, "I mean, does he ever come up for air? I've seen him and Lavender snogging all damn day!"

Hermione grimaced. That wasn't a mental image she wanted. She'd managed to avoid him since yesterday and she preferred to keep it that way.

"Mum's going to be so disappointed in him if she winds up having his baby. She cannot _stand_ Lavender, not that I blame her. She's worse than Phlegm."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ginny…"

"Fleur," Ginny corrected herself with a wave of her hand. "She's so much worse. I mean, he couldn't have picked anyone else?"

With a groan, Ginny flopped down onto Hermione's bed face first. She buried her head into the blankets near Hermione's knee. "It's gross," she whined.

"I can imagine it is," Hermione acknowledged. She patted Ginny's hair, forgetting that she was supposed to be concealing it.

Ginny felt cool metal against her head and rolled over slightly, catching Hermione's hand. She studied the offending piece of jewelry critically, trying to decipher its odd placement and appearance. It was rather pretty but not something she'd ever imagined Hermione to wear.

_Why is it on her ring fin-_

Ginny's eyes widened. "You're engaged?!"

Wincing, Hermione slowly retracted her hand from Ginny's grasp. She'd been so careful this last week, yet one little moment in time brought all of that to a screeching halt. "Oops?"

"Oops?" Ginny demanded, sitting upright on the bed. She crossed her arms and twisted to face Hermione, an unimpressed expression on her features. "Oops?"

Hermione sighed. "Gin…"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ginny was obviously hurt. She thought Hermione would have told her about something so important.

"I didn't really want anyone knowing yet," Hermione admitted. "It just happened and I haven't really had a lot of time to think about it myself. It caught me off guard and with classes and the match yesterday…"

"When did _this_ happen?" Ginny had to know; had to know how long Hermione had been sitting on such an important secret – how long she'd been keeping something like this from _her_.

Hermione let out another shaky sigh. "Last weekend, when we went to Hogsmeade. After you'd taken Draco to find Luna and I went into the Shrieking Shack. I told Bellatrix everything and she gave me this ring."

Ginny was quiet, lost in thought. She'd feared it had been weeks or even months since Hermione's engagement started, but knowing it was only a week made her feel a bit better. She was still upset, but no longer angry. "I take it Draco knows?"

"Yes," Hermione answered truthfully, eyeing her friend wearily. She knew it bothered Ginny that Draco always seemed to know everything before her but she couldn't help it. He was always there, even when she didn't ask him to be – but _always_ when she needed him to be.

Exhaling deeply through her nose, Ginny nodded. "Of course he does."

"Ginny…"

Ginny waved her hand dismissively. "I'm not mad. Hurt, yes. Mad, no. I just wish you'd told me. I'm your _friend_. Your _best_ friend. I'm supposed to know these things."

"I know," Hermione replied imploringly, grabbing Ginny's arm. "And I planned on telling you, I just…"

"Needed time," Ginny finished understandingly. "Yeah, you said that."

Biting her lip, Hermione stared at the other Gryffindor, trying to gauge her response. "So?"

Inhaling sharply, Ginny shoved away the remaining hurt and let elation fill her. Despite her initial reaction, she was so bloody excited for her best friend. She couldn't imagine anyone other than Bellatrix making Hermione this happy, even if it was a fucking _weird_ thought.

"I'm so happy for you," Ginny breathed, her cheeks flushing with elation. "I mean, you're engaged! That's amazing!"

Hermione released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She accepted the hug the youngest Weasley hurled at her, shrieking when they nearly pitched off the bed. She'd done that once; she didn't want a repeat.

"So, c'mon, tell me about it!" Ginny demanded as she pulled back, righting herself on the bed. "Was it perfect? Did she get on one knee? Tell me everything!"

Laughing, Hermione began regaling the tale to Ginny, her chest a thousand pounds lighter. She was relieved that Ginny wasn't too upset with her. She couldn't imagine gushing over something so important with anyone else.


	18. Chapter 18

Snow covered the streets of muggle London as winter approached. Soft powder coated their cars and their sidewalks, weighty footfall leaving behind indents in the snow as people carried on with their lives. It wasn't a winter wonderland yet, so the people continued on as normal, their coats a little heavier and their journeys a bit shorter.

Bellatrix once again found herself mingling with muggles, much to her displeasure. She had apparated to the pub where she'd first spotted Faith but this time, she was determined to catch the woman before she disappeared. She had questions that only Faith and her beloved could answer.

She slipped into the pub, catching sight of Faith tending the bar. It was unsettling how early some muggles began drinking, but she couldn't say anything about it. Her father used to drink quite a lot, as did her ex-husband, so she guessed it was a universal thing; something both worlds shared.

Shrugging off her cloak, Bellatrix sauntered up to the bar and claimed a chair directly in front of the woman.

"What can I get y–" Faith paused when she noticed who was sitting before her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You left before we could talk," Bellatrix said conversationally, glaring at the drunkard beside her as he swayed in his stool. "So I figured I would catch you before you got the chance to run off and hide away in whatever little hovel you live in."

Faith glared at Bellatrix, her shoulders tense. "I have nothing to say to you, so why don't you just bugger off?"

"For an American, you sounded quite British just now," Bellatrix smirked.

Faith slammed her hand down hard on the bar, startling a few of the patrons farther down the bar, though Bellatrix didn't flinch. "Listen, lady –"

"No, you listen," Bellatrix sneered, her patience clearly beginning to run thin, "I have questions that only you have the answers to and I need them."

Studying the eldest Black critically, Faith sighed. There was something about this woman that was unsettling yet familiar. She remembered being like that, decades ago. Desperate for answers that no one seemed to have but too proud to admit it out loud. Why acknowledge desperation when you could simply bully it out of someone?

"I get off in an hour. Go find a seat somewhere else and when I'm done, we can talk."

Bellatrix eyed Faith for a moment and, when she was satisfied the woman was being honest, nodded.

Faith leaned closer. "But don't start any trouble. I won't lose my job because your pureblood ass started something with a muggle."

Smirking, Bellatrix rose. "Of course not."

An hour later she found herself in the corner booth of the pub, watching the throngs of people who ventured in and out of the building. Some left on steady feet while others practically crawled out into the afternoon sun.

Muggle London was a world all its own it seemed.

Faith wandered over after she finished her shift, wiping her hands against her jeans as she took a seat across from the former Slytherin. "You stand out like a sore thumb in this place."

"Well, I don't exactly know how to be _muggle_ and I never want to. Such dreadful creatures."

Rolling her eyes, Faith leaned back in the booth. "So what is so important that you had to hunt _me_ down? I'm certain there are plenty of other people in the Wizarding World that have the answers you're lookin' for."

"Honestly, there really aren't," Bellatrix admitted, locking eyes with the woman. "There aren't a lot of people in the world who know anything of importance when it comes to soulmates."

Faith stiffened, her gaze narrowing as she sized up Bellatrix. "Why, exactly, is that any of your business? And why come to me? What makes you think I know a lot about them?"

Bellatrix smirked, never faltering despite Faith's impressive glare. "You're one half of the only living pair of soulmates left and I need to know because of a prophecy."

Faith snorted. "Why is there always a prophecy involved? It's like the fates have nothing better to do than torment us mortals."

Arching a brow, Bellatrix let her smirk fall into a genuine smile. In a different world, she could imagine actually being friends with this woman. "I really don't know, but it _is_ a tad bit exhausting, isn't it? All that pressure falling on your shoulders?"

"You have _no_ idea," Faith groused.

"Oh, I very well do," Bellatrix said sardonically.

Curiosity flooded Faith's system. She hadn't expected that answer. If there was a prophecy involving the Dark Lord's right hand, God help them all. "Really?"

Deciding she could trust Faith with a little information, she explained bits and pieces of her prophecy; of her lover and their status as soulmates. She didn't tell her the whole story, just enough to sate her interest. She wasn't going to tell a complete stranger _everything_.

That would be utterly _stupid_.

Faith tilted her head thoughtfully as she took in everything Bellatrix said – and what she didn't say. There was more to the story than she let on, but she clearly playing it close to the chest. She didn't blame Bellatrix by any means; it was hard to trust anyone these days.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

-X-

The Great Hall reminded Hermione of the muggle Christmas cards the Grangers used to buy to send to all of their friends and relatives, only it was far more magical and done far better. There was holly and tinsel strewn about, with twelve magnificent trees dressed for the holidays. Mistletoe hung from the ceiling, which most of the girls of Gryffindor house seemed to converge around in hopes of catching Harry Potter beneath one, though he was quite skilled at avoiding them.

Hermione was beginning to understand Ginny's revulsion. Ron and Lavender were attached at the lips all the time nowadays, snogging wherever they felt like it, completely shameless. They weren't afraid to lock lips in the halls between classes, in the common room, in the Great Hall.

It was utterly scarring.

She would deal with it though if it meant Ron would leave her alone. He wasn't acting like a complete _ass_ anymore and he wasn't being weird, so she'd deal with his constant public display. She hoped that maybe they'd get to Christmas break without anything bad happening.

A few days ago, she'd found herself in the lavatory with Romilda Vane and her friend, discretely spying on their conversation. Apparently Romilda was planning to slip Harry a love potion in hopes that she can seduce the "Chosen One." It was deplorable but Hermione hadn't had a chance to warn the boy so when he approached her in the library one night, she was thankful.

"Harry," Hermione greeted with a smile, scribbling another line of her essay that was due soon.

"Hi," Harry returned wearily, dropping into a seat and tossing his Potions book onto the table. He was terribly exhausted, having dodged girls all day that were determined to catch him beneath mistletoe. He'd never been so sought after and honestly?

He was bloody tired of it.

"So, I heard a piece of interesting news while I was in the girls' lavatory," Hermione started, giving Harry her full attention. "You need to be very careful. Romilda Vane is planning to slip you a love potion because she believes you're the Chosen One."

Harry blinked, startled by the sudden onslaught of information. "Uh, Hermione, if you haven't noticed, I _am_ the Chosen One."

Irritated by his arrogance, Hermione rolled up her parchment and leaned across the table, smacking him in the head with it. "That's not the point, Harry. You need to watch out. Love potions can be really dangerous. I'm fairly certain Fred and George's _actually_ work and that could cause you a bit of trouble if you aren't careful."

Harry nodded understandingly. "I'll be careful," he promised. He paused for a moment. "So what are you doing about the Slug Club party tomorrow? Planning on taking Draco?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, he wasn't interested and I can't imagine Slughorn being too happy with me if I brought him along. He already seems wary enough of us as it is."

"Some people are far too judgmental," Harry sighed sympathetically, reaching over to pat Hermione's arm. "I'm sorry I was one of them."

Hermione smiled gratefully. "You've already apologized, Harry, and I've forgiven you." The lie fell too easily from her lips and Hermione had to fight back a frown. "Are you taking anyone?"

"There's no one I really feel like taking," Harry said grumpily, thinking of the object of his affections. Ginny was already going and he suspected she was taking Dean. They weren't dating, but he was certain there was something going on between them.

Before Hermione could comment, Madam Pince appeared and hurriedly ushered them out of the library, but not before yelling at Harry about his defaced book. Hermione was quick to drag him out of there, chiding him for bringing that stupid thing into the library in the first place.

She followed him back to the common room before offering a quiet, "good night."

The next morning, Transfiguration was an absolute nightmare. Ron was in a meaner mood than normal, mocking Hermione after she laughed openly at his handlebar mustache. It didn't hurt like it had during their first year; no, it made her blood _boil_. How dare he try and humiliate the daughter of the Dark Lord? Did he not remember what she'd done to him the year before? She contemplated hexing him for a brief moment in time, but ultimately decided he wasn't worth the detention it would surely bring.

"Screw you, Ronald," she called over her shoulder as she strolled off, book clutched tightly to her chest.

Later that night she found herself standing outside of Slughorn's office, a sense of unease settling in the pit of her stomach. She really didn't want to be here, but she knew she really didn't have a choice. It would have looked bad if she hadn't shown up.

With a sigh, Hermione slipped inside.

Slughorn's office seemed far bigger than any of the other offices she'd ventured into, aside from Dumbledore's. It was colored in pretty drapery, emerald and crimson and gold hanging about, making his office look like a well-dressed tent. The party was already in full swing, full of people and waiters, all dressed in their best clothes.

She could barely make out Harry standing with Slughorn, looking terribly uncomfortable as he made small talk with Slughorn's guests. Luna was diligently at his side, though she was obviously paying no attention to the conversation. Instead, she was eyeing the pale man standing a bit to the side while his friend chattered to Harry. She could understand her curiosity, though; it wasn't every day that a vampire came out just for a party.

A vampire that was staring a little too hungrily at some of the passing girls.

She caught Harry's eye and he sighed in relief, hurriedly excusing himself from the conversation. Clearly he wasn't enjoying himself, being surrounded by people marveling in his legend. He was dragging someone along with him and it took a second for Hermione to realize who it was.

"You brought Luna?" Hermione blurted, peering dumbfounded at the pair.

"As _friends_ ," Luna emphasized with a firm nod, locking eyes with Hermione. There was something in her stare that was disconcerting and Hermione found herself nodding back. It was obvious Luna didn't want to give anyone the wrong idea.

They slipped over to the refreshments table, noticing a moment too late that Professor Trelawney was standing there. She was inconspicuously drinking from a glass that Hermione was certain contained something alcoholic, considering the teacher's cheeks were flushed and her focus seemed hazy at best.

Trelawney's attention fell upon the trio and she waved, her entire body swaying with the action. Hermione inched away, barely returning the gesture.

"She's drunk," Luna noted conversationally, smiling brightly at the wasted professor.

"No bloody joke," Hermione murmured.

Harry opened his mouth to comment, but paused as McLaggen wandered over to them, his cocky smirk firmly in place as he looked Hermione over. She bristled under his gaze. She didn't like it and, if Bella was there, she was positive she'd be less than thrilled with him too.

"Good evening, Potter." He didn't spare Luna a single glance and it bothered Hermione greatly. Luna was a fantastic witch in her own right and she deserved just as much respect and recognition as they did. Just because her name didn't hold some famous connotation didn't mean she was lesser than them.

In fact, she was a far better witch than he ever would be a wizard.

"Cormac," Harry greeted coolly.

His attention fell to Hermione and a shiver worked its way up her spine. He was looking at her like she was a fine piece of meat he was ready to dig into.

_Gross._

"Ms. Riddle, you look lovely as ever," he purred, reaching for her hand so he could press a kiss to the back of it.

Grimacing, Hermione snatched her hand back and cradled it to her chest. "McLaggen."

Nonplussed by her reaction, Cormac stepped closer. "So what is it going to take for me to catch you beneath some mistletoe tonight? I believe you and I could make quite a bit of Christmas magic."

He gave a sleazy wink and Hermione gagged.

"There isn't enough Galleons in the world," she replied snidely, disgusted by his gall.

"We'll see." He shot her a parting wink and disappeared back into the crowd.

"I'm so glad you didn't bring him tonight," Harry remarked, glaring at Cormac's back as he tried to weasel up to Professor Slughorn and his friends.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't have brought him if he was the last single guy on this planet."

"You're much too Sapphic for that," Luna commented in her typical, astute way that left everyone stunned.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, eyeing a rapidly paling Hermione.

Luna shrugged. "Exactly what I said, Harry."

"But Hermione isn't –"

"Hey guys!" Ginny greeted from behind Hermione, cutting off Harry's train of thought, something Hermione was so grateful for. She wasn't about to explain Luna's comment.

_How did she know?_

Spinning around, Hermione couldn't stop herself from embracing the younger girl. "Thank you," she whispered in the startled redhead's ear.

Ginny shot Hermione an odd look as they parted, but nodded anyways. She ignored Harry's smitten smile and, instead, looked Luna over. "You look so pretty tonight, Luna!"

Luna smiled serenely. "So do you. Your dress is lovely."

Hermione scrutinized the room as Ginny and Luna chatted. She could still see Cormac, his back to her as he talked with someone from Ravenclaw. The girl he was talking to glanced over his shoulder at Luna and sneered. She said something that made him laugh, leaving Hermione with a dark look on her face.

_Screw this!_

Strolling over to the pair, she pasted a sickly sweet smile on her face. "Cormac."

McLaggen turned around, a pleased grin on his face. "Ah, Hermione. Changed your mind, I see?"

Hermione forced herself not to roll her eyes. She ran her finger across the stem of his glass and batted her eyes. "I just wanted to apologize, actually. I was a bit harsh back there."

"It's perfectly alright, but I know how you can make it up to me," he winked, earning a fake laugh from Hermione.

"Maybe if you're lucky." She patted his cheek, biting her lip so that she didn't laugh in his face. There was absolutely _no_ way he was getting what he wanted from her.

Her attention fell to the Ravenclaw beside him. "You look nice tonight, Eva."

Eva gave an equally phony smile. "So do you."

"Well, enjoy the party," Hermione said, a wicked gleam in her eye as she sauntered away, her stomach rolling at the knowledge that Cormac was definitely staring at her arse as she walked back to her friends.

"What the hell was that about?" Ginny demanded when Hermione was close enough.

Smirking, Hermione waved off her inquiry. "Just watch."

McLaggen's head twisted back to face Eva and he brought his glass up to his lips. He took a sip, but before he could swallow, a broken yelp ripped from his throat and he spat his drink in Eva's face. He jerked the glass away from his face, droplets of crimson dripping from his bottom lip.

"Cormac!" Eva shrieked, wiping some of the juice from her face. "What the hell?!"

He covered his mouth. "Somefing bit me!"

Hermione's group of friends watched in silent disbelief, unable to comprehend what they were watching. They couldn't believe Hermione had jinxed his glass, but the evidence was blaringly obvious.

"That was bloody brilliant," Ginny whispered under her breath, smiling proudly at the older Gryffindor.

"Hermione, why…" Harry fell quiet. He was stunned by her actions. He'd never thought she was such a spiteful person before.

Hermione refused to answer, only watching gleefully as Cormac shuffled off, still holding his bleeding lip. A familiar sense of dark pride flooded her system and, for once, she didn't mind. He had it coming. He was far too smarmy and full of himself and, truthfully, she was glad she could be the one to bring him down a peg. He wasn't going to come back from something like that easily, considering he'd spat his drink in someone's face in a crowded room packed full of people.

Before anything else could be said, Filch shuffled into the party, Draco held firmly in his grasp. Hermione paled, watching her friend be dragged around like some common criminal. She could only imagine what Filch had caught him doing and it worried her greatly. If he'd been discovered coming out of the Room of Requirement, then…

She didn't want to think about what the consequences would be.

"Professor Slughorn, I found this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to be one of your guests."

Draco fought Filch's grip, his face flushed with embarrassment and rage. How dare he manhandle a _Malfoy,_ the filthy squib? "Alright, I wasn't invited! I was gate-crashing. All of my friends are here and I wanted to come too."

Filch was all too happy to tell Draco he was in trouble, but Hermione couldn't stop the sigh of relief from passing her lips. He hadn't been caught getting into trouble, but why had he been dumb enough to get caught in the first place? He was much smarter than that. He knew they had to be discrete, dammit!

Slughorn dismissed Filch's threat, telling Draco he was more than welcome to join the party. After all, he'd known Draco's grandfather quite well and was remiss to have forgotten to invite the young man. After all, he was a close friend to both Ginny Weasley and Hermione Riddle, both brilliant witches in their own rights. Surely they wouldn't associate with ignorant company.

Filch released Draco and he adjusted his clothes angrily, glaring at the man who'd dared to handle him so carelessly. He wiped the wrinkles from his robes before thanking Professor Slughorn. He complimented the man's teaching abilities before wandering over to Hermione. He ignored Harry's contemptuous expression.

"You clean up nice," Draco commented casually, as though he hadn't just caused a scene people would surely be discussing later.

Hermione glared at Draco, but stayed silent. She couldn't chastise him properly around their friends, but he would certainly be getting an earful later.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape greeted from behind Hermione, startling her. She hadn't heard him approaching. "A word?"

Draco pursed his lips. "Of course, Professor. I shall see you all later."

He glanced meaningfully at Hermione for a second before following Snape out of the room. Harry, obviously intrigued, gave a half-hearted excuse and disappeared after them, leaving Hermione a mess of nerves. She hoped they didn't say anything too incriminating.

They still had so much work to do.


	19. Chapter 19

The train was alight with animated chatter as it trudged along the tracks. All of the students headed home were eager for their holiday break, their happy giggles and enthusiastic conversations bouncing off the walls of their cars. The stresses of schooling were behind them – albeit temporarily – and that left the atmosphere cheerful.

Hermione was settled into a car with Draco, an odd silence befalling them as they stared out the window. Since Slughorn's party, they'd been unable to work on their project in the Room of Requirement, the eyes of their fellow students falling upon them more heavily than before. His stunt had brought attention they didn't need – the exact thing Hermione was terrified of.

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered, his pale eyes never straying from the glass.

Hermione sighed. "I know. I'm not angry with you."

"No, but I'm angry with myself," he admitted. "If I hadn't been caught…"

"How did you get caught, anyways?" Hermione wondered, finally voicing the question she'd been too frustrated to inquire about before.

Draco huffed. "I was supposed to have Crabbe and Goyle with me as lookouts, but Snape had them in detention and I thought – stupidly – that maybe I would be fine on my own like before. I didn't really think about the aurors and Filch walking about because of the party until it was too late. Filch caught me outside of Slughorn's office and I just panicked, so I said I was gate-crashing."

"At least you thought on your feet," Hermione commended. "I can't imagine what would have happened if you hadn't."

"Nothing good," Draco agreed with a nod.

Hermione reached over and took Draco's hand for a moment. "I know I was hard on you after the party, but I really am proud of you. You kept yourself out of trouble and that's what's important."

Draco smiled gratefully and squeezed her hand. "Thank you."

The car fell quiet, but the silence was no longer stifling and uncomfortable. It seemed they were finally were back on solid ground, their friendship completely unscathed. She couldn't imagine anything destroying their friendship; he was her brother in every sense of the word but blood and that's what mattered most.

A knock on the clear door broke their reveres and Hermione glanced over, smiling at Ginny. She beckoned the younger Gryffindor inside.

"Good morning," Hermione greeted.

"Morning," Ginny yawned, her slightly haggard appearance a bit concerning. She looked like she hadn't slept the night before, the circles under her eyes a bit darker than usual.

Draco, sensing a conversation he might not wish to be a part of, stood from his seat and shot Ginny a gentle smile. He'd come to care greatly for the Weasley despite her family's less-than-fantastic status. He hoped she would find peace from whatever was bothering her.

"I'm going to see if I can find Luna. I bet she's handing out Quibblers and I'd like to discuss a few things with her about nargles and heliopaths. She might sound a bit odd to some, but some of the things she talks about sound very real. Maybe there's more to what she says than we realize."

Draco patted Ginny's arm as he passed her, slipping from the car.

Ginny let out a hallowed sigh and flopped down in the seat he'd vacated. She was utterly exhausted and would probably end up napping on the train at some point. She was tempted to hide away in Hermione's car for the rest of the trip and do just that, actually.

"Mum says Tonks is spending the holidays with us," Ginny said, a faraway look in her eye.

Hermione hummed, waiting for her to continue. She was certain there was more to it than that. Ginny wouldn't be worked up over something so minute.

"I don't know what to do with all these feelings, especially when she's around," she admitted, "I mean, I know I care about her and there's way more to it than friendship, but she seems so reluctant to have anything to do with me. What if it's all awkward and someone catches on? That's definitely _not_ something I want to have to explain. Mum would have a fit."

"Your mother loves you," Hermione reminded her with a kind smile.

"I know that," Ginny sighed. "But she isn't fond of same sex relationships; she's very old fashion. She doesn't understand them and it bothers her when she sees couples on the street. Dad doesn't care. He's friends with plenty of gay people at the Ministry, but Mum…" she shook her head. "I don't know what would happen if she found out."

"I didn't know that," Hermione said, her smile dipping into a frown. "But you're her daughter. Nothing will change that."

Ginny exhaled heavily. "I hope so. I've been considering coming out as bisexual to her over the break, but I think that's a bad idea at the same time."

Hermione studied her best friend for a second. "You know if it goes badly that you're welcome at the manor. I'm certain Narcissa wouldn't mind having you for a few days if you do decide to come out."

"No offense, but I don't think I'd be too welcome in a house full of Death Eaters," Ginny replied with a pointed look.

"What makes you think the manor is full of Death Eaters?" Hermione wondered, fairly certain she'd never given any indication that anyone other than Bellatrix and the Malfoys lived there.

Ginny's brow arched.

"I can assure you, if you were to come, there would be no other Death Eaters besides Bellatrix at the manor."

Hermione wasn't sure how she'd manage that, but Narcissa and Bellatrix would accommodate her request should it come to that. If they couldn't, her father surely would. She wasn't going to let her friend suffer alone and if that meant convincing the Dark Lord it was best to not have them around, she would make it happen.

"Really?" Ginny's other brow rose to match its twin.

"I promise."

"I'll keep that in mind," Ginny said with a nod. Knowing that was a comfort should she decide to finally come out. "Are you excited?"

"Definitely," Hermione nodded. "I haven't seen Bella since she proposed and I've missed her greatly. With everything going on, I haven't really been able to write her either. I'm a bit afraid to, considering the Ministry is kind of known for intercepting letters they deem questionable."

Ginny nodded sagely. "I can imagine that'd be hard."

"More than you know."

-X-

By the time Narcissa and Lucius left to collect Hermione and Draco from Platform 9 and ¾, Bellatrix was positively manic. She paced about the length of the sitting room, face scrunched up with excitement as she counted down the minutes until her lover was in her arms once again.

Oh how she had missed Hermione.

She had so much she needed to tell her. Her conversation with Faith had brought plenty of things to light, answering some of her questions while raising others. She was quite certain the other woman hadn't told her everything, but what she'd offered was more than enough for the time being.

Time seemed to tick by slower than normal as she waited. What felt like hours were only mere minutes and it was driving Bellatrix mad – well, madder than usual. All she wanted was to see Hermione; feel her warm figure tucked protectively in Bellatrix's embrace.

Truly, was that too much to ask for?

She was vaguely aware of Greyback peering into the sitting room, but she paid him no mind. She knew he was anticipating Hermione's return as well. He liked having her as a sparring partner; she wasn't nearly as deadly as the other Death Eaters he occasionally practiced with but she was a worthy opponent.

Something tingly and soft blossomed in her chest and she rushed out of the room before Greyback could say a word. She didn't need him to tell her that her beloved had returned home. She could feel her in her very bones.

She came to a halt in the front room, taking in the tired form of her fiancée. She was paler than Bellatrix remembered, cheeks a bit gaunter than before. She looked like she'd lost a bit of weight – and that _bothered_ Bellatrix a lot. She was skinny enough as it was; her losing weight was not an option. She wanted her lover healthy – and this was not _healthy_.

"Bella…" Hermione whispered, the word falling from her lips almost a prayer as she gazed upon the dark witch.

Finally jerking from her stupor, Bellatrix hurriedly closed the gap between them and swept Hermione up in her arms. She pressed her face into Hermione's hair and gripped her tightly, breathing in the soothing scent that was purely _Hermione_. She smelled of lavender and soft wood and forever.

It was comforting; it was home.

With an exhausted sigh, Hermione slumped against Bellatrix and threw her arms around Bellatrix's neck, her forehead falling to Bellatrix's shoulder as the stresses of school fell away. For a moment, she could breathe - she could _exist_ – and it was all because of her girlfriend, her soulmate, the one person in the universe who understood her better than any other.

"Welcome home," Bellatrix whispered into the mane covering her soft features.

"It's good to be home," Hermione murmured, her voice no louder than Bellatrix's.

Leaning back slightly, Bellatrix cupped Hermione's cheek and kissed her soundly but sweeter than all the other times Hermione had returned to the manor. Now was not the time for passion-driven lust. Right now, in this very moment, Hermione needed comfort – love - and Bellatrix was more than willing to give it.

Lips parting, Bellatrix smiled. "I love you."

With a smitten grin, Hermione replied, "I love you too, darling."

Unable to contain himself, Greyback stepped forward and clapped Hermione hard on the shoulder. "Welcome back, kid."

Hermione stumbled deeper into Bellatrix's embrace, but a full-bodied laugh escaped her. It'd been so long since she felt this at ease. She'd missed the manor, missed her family, but she'd also missed her friends. She'd missed her duels with the werewolf and Dolohov; missed the lively dinner conversations and the way some of the other Death Eaters regaled her with stories of their antics.

Draco watched his friend from his father's side, a similar smile playing on the edges of his lips. He echoed the same sentiments as Hermione, thankful to be home and away from the watchful eyes of his House and - more importantly - _Dumbledore_.

Releasing Hermione, Bellatrix strolled over to her nephew and wrapped her arms around him for a brief moment. "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too," he murmured, relishing the reassurance his favorite aunt offered freely.

She patted his cheek as she let go, smiling. She was proud of the young man he'd blossomed into. He had made his family proud, carrying his name with honor. When the time came, she had no doubts that he would continue on his family's legacy properly.

"Come, why don't we let the children rest? I'm certain they're tired from their ride and would love to relax before dinner," Lucius suggested, glancing between his son and Hermione. He could see the way her body sagged and her eyes drooped with fatigue. Now that she was home, she finally felt comfortable enough to let her exhaustion show.

Draco wasn't fairing much better.

Bellatrix looped her arm around Hermione's waist and took a second to really look over her lover. Despite the elation oozing into their connection, Bellatrix could feel the underlying anxieties riddling Hermione's body. It felt almost tangible, though Hermione was trying valiantly to hide it away from prying eyes.

Her chest ached; Hermione was going through so much and it was obviously weighing heavily on her.

"I agree," Bellatrix nodded. "I shall escort Hermione to our room. We will see you all at dinner."

"Remember, Bella, _sleep_ ," Lucius emphasized with a sharp look. He liked his sister-in-law, but he knew how _passionate_ the lovers could be and for once, he hoped Bellatrix could keep control of her more carnal side.

Bellatrix shot him a dirty glare and began leading Hermione up the stairs, keeping a tight grip on Hermione's waist as they wandered towards their landing. It was a slow process, Hermione sluggishly following as Bellatrix gently herded her along. Her legs were heavy, like concrete had seeped into her bones.

When they finally reached their bedroom, Hermione's eyes were half open and her movements were slow and stunted. She barely had the energy to wander over to their bed and sat on the edge, rubbing her face tiredly. She paused when Bellatrix kneeled in front of her, peering down at her lover as she meticulously – almost clinically – began stripping off Hermione's clothes.

"Bella…"

Bellatrix smiled. "Just lay back and relax, darling."

Flopping onto her back, Hermione closed her eyes as she focused her girlfriend's hands. They caressed her feet as she slipped off Hermione's shoes, applying a little pressure as she took the time to rub them over her socks. Her thumbs pressed into the sole of Hermione's right foot and a soft moan broke from parted lips.

Continuing upward, Bellatrix massaged Hermione's calves, slipping her hands beneath the cuff of Hermione's pants. She hoped Hermione would unwind and center herself with the skin-on-skin ministrations. Her nails dragged along the unmarred flesh beneath her fingers and Hermione giggled, her body going slack as Bellatrix worked the tension away.

"That feels good," Hermione mumbled sleepily, her mind growing foggy as sleep threatened to claim her.

Together, they managed to get Hermione out of her pants. It was a bit of a fiasco, considering Hermione could barely lift her hips, but she somehow shimmied out of them, leaving them discarded beside Bellatrix on the floor. She swung her legs onto the bed and inched up to the headboard, wiggling beneath the covers.

Slipping into bed beside her lover, Bellatrix couldn't contain her smile when Hermione rolled over and tossed an arm across her torso and a leg over hers. Her head fell on Bellatrix's shoulder and she closed her eyes, breathing in the dark, musky scent of her fiancée.

"Love you," Hermione mumbled, already teetering on the edge of sleep.

Bellatrix hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of Hermione's head. "I love you too, darling."

-X-

_The school was in shambles._

_Rock and stone littered the ground, a gaping hole blown through the wall near the front entrance. She could barely make out the outlines of her friends, each engaged in a battle of life and death, as she wiped the dust from her eyes and rose up from the ground. As her vision cleared, she could see Ginny locked in a duel with Ron, blood dripping down her face as the cut above her eye wept, while Draco flung spell after spell at Percy Weasley beside her._

_She tried calling out to them, but the words stuck in her throat and only a noise of despair left her. They weren't equally matched – considering Draco and Ginny were fantastic duelists – but it seemed the Weasley brothers had the upper hand. Every move was countered with ease and it left Hermione's stomach twisted in knots._

_A roar of rage broke from Ron's chest and his grip tightened around his wand. He flung a plethora of jinxes and curses at Ginny, who barely managed to avoid them. In her haste to avoid the nasty spells shot in her direction, she left herself unprotected and Hermione watched, horrified, as a jet of green left Ron's wand, striking Ginny in the chest. She fell soundlessly to her knees, jaw slack and eyes glazed, before tipping over lifelessly._

_"No!" Hermione screamed, finally finding her voice._

_She tried running forward, but she couldn't move. Her legs were immobile, stuck in place, forcing her to simply watch from a distance as her friends lost their lives. Ron joined Percy in his attacking of Draco and they were quick to overpower the boy._

_He joined Ginny on what was left of the Great Hall's floor._

_Tears streamed down Hermione's cheeks, completely helpless as she watched Ron mutter something to his sister's lifeless body before he kicked it. He and Percy walked away, leaving Hermione to stare brokenly at her friends._

This is wrong, _she cried,_ it's all wrong.

_Footsteps echoed behind Hermione, but she couldn't bring herself to look; she couldn't stomach seeing another friend lose their life. The steady thump came to a stop beside her and she steeled her nerves. She glanced up._

_"You're still not ready," the man said matter-of-factly, his sword alight with fire as he uninterestedly observed the scene before him. "Until you are, this is their fate."_

_Hermione's brows furrowed. "I know you. Why do I know you?"_

_He ignored her question, strolling over to her friends' downed bodies. He crouched over them, staring at them impassively. He tapped Ginny's cheek with his sword, watching her lifeless form catch fire before doing the same to Draco. "You play a dangerous game, Daughter of Darkness."_

_"What do you mean?" Hermione demanded, gagging at the smell that invaded her nose._

_The man sighed. "You cannot keep one foot in the light and one in the dark. It brings forth only destruction and death. You cannot be two people. It promises the end of lives – lives of both those you love and those you do not know. You must choose or you will lose_ everything _."_

_"I don't understand," Hermione admitted miserably._

_The man walked over to Hermione and studied her for a moment, something unexplainable crossing his features._

_"Neither are you dark nor light, yet you try to be both. You are not bound to either, yet you let them control your actions – your choices. You must choose what matters most to you and let that be your guide. Do not lose yourself in other people's games. You are the chosen one; do not let yourself become a pawn."_

_He reached out, patting Hermione's shoulder. "You are a strong warrior with a good heart. These men wish only to take that from you. Do not let them. Remember what you fight for."_

-X-

The room was dark when Hermione awoke and for a split second, her disorientation left her panicked. She could feel another body against hers and, if it wasn't for the warmth and love flooding their connection, Hermione was certain she would've tumbled arse-first off the mattress.

When she felt Hermione jerk awake, Bellatrix began stroking Hermione's back, hoping to keep her calm and help her readjust to the real world. Hermione had barely moved during her nap, but she had mumbled quite a bit and, while Bellatrix hadn't been able to make out _what_ was spoken, it was evident that it wasn't anything good.

Once she was fully conscious, Hermione relaxed against Bellatrix's lithe frame and sighed. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the icy tendrils of powerlessness threatening to choke the breath from her lungs. She could still see Ginny and Draco lying lifelessly on the ground and she burrowed deeper into Bellatrix's side.

"Bad dream?" Bellatrix inquired knowingly.

Hermione made a noncommittal noise and stayed quiet, her eyes drifting over the room. She didn't want to talk about her dream. It wasn't the first time she'd had such a dream, but this was the first time it'd been quite so vivid. She could still taste dust on her tongue and feel an itch on her skin. She wiggled her toes beneath the covers just to be sure she could.

"You don't have to talk about it," Bellatrix murmured, combing her fingers through Hermione's locks. "But know that you can always talk to me about anything."

Tilting her head, Hermione pressed a kiss to Bellatrix's bare shoulder. She loved the corsets her girlfriend wore; they offered plenty of skin without being too revealing. She was fairly certain it wasn't comfortable to sleep in but she appreciated the fact Bellatrix had chosen Hermione's comfort over her own.

"Dinner should be ready soon," Bellatrix said, her nails scratching along Hermione's scalp.

Whining, Hermione buried her face in Bellatrix's neck. "Don' wanna get up."

"I know, but the others have been eagerly awaiting your return. Greyback has been beside himself waiting for you. He desperately wants a rematch and he's grown tired of me besting him every time we duel."

Hermione chuckled, her breath skirting across pale skin. "You should let him win every once in a while or he'll never train with you again."

"Letting him win would only do him harm," Bellatrix argued. "No one wins if I _let_ him."

Smiling, Hermione kissed the side of Bellatrix's neck, earning a low groan. She'd missed this; the intimacy that came with simply lying with her lover. It felt right, being in Bellatrix's arms. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too," the dark witch replied breathlessly, tilting her head so Hermione had better access.

Hermione hummed, her tongue mischievously tracing up the side of her neck to her ear. She captured her earlobe between her teeth, tugging playfully before releasing it. Bellatrix panted, a steady pool of desire ruining her panties as Hermione peppered her skin in light, teasing kisses. She'd been daydreaming of what might happen when Hermione woke up, but this was better than what her imagination could ever conjure up.

Deciding she'd tortured her girlfriend enough, Hermione rolled off the bed and stretched, smirking at the disbelieving look Bellatrix shot her. Hermione never started something she didn't intend to finish.

"Like you said, love, dinner will be ready shortly and I'd _hate_ to disappoint the others."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some smut in this chapter, so if that's not your thing, you might wanna skip it!

Ginny had always liked the Burrow.

It was in the middle of nowhere with no other houses in sight, meaning she was free to do as she pleased, especially late at night when no one else was awake. The house groaned and creaked enough on its own that it covered the sounds of her sneaking out of her bedroom and down the stairs. She carefully nudged the door open and slipped outside, closing it silently behind her.

She ventured towards the field, stopping a few feet from the edge. It was a chilly night, but she'd come prepared, a blanket tossed around her shoulders and her sleep pants heavy enough that they promised to keep her legs warm.

Settling down a few feet from the high grass, Ginny crossed her legs and glanced up. The sky was clear, the moon so bright that it illuminated her face and the stars glittering prettily above.

It was a gorgeous night.

The wind slithered across her flushed cheeks and Ginny wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She couldn't sleep, nightmares plaguing her every dream – like they did almost every night. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept through the night without one.

It was always the same dream. She was trapped within her own body, watching as she painted words on the walls in blood; as she did despicable, horrible things. She hated the helplessness she felt as Tom Riddle controlled her actions.

It was a frightening thing, having no control over her own body.

Her fingers dug into the fabric keeping the cold from seeping into her flesh. She hated him for what he'd stolen from her. He'd taken her childhood – her _innocence_ – and left her with only "what ifs" and "whys" that would never be explained. He had destroyed something within her that could never be fixed. No draughts or potions would ever take away the pain he'd caused.

"Couldn't sleep, huh?" a voice sounded behind her, startling Ginny from her wretched train of thought.

Jerking around, Ginny was surprised to see Tonks standing behind her, a coat encompassing her lithe frame. She hadn't heard the woman approaching; hell, she didn't even know Tonks was _at_ the Burrow. She had been away on Order business when Ginny had arrived home earlier that morning so she hadn't expected to come across the metamorphmagus.

When Ginny didn't respond, Tonks nervously began fidgeting with her jacket. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Would you like to be alone?"

Shaking her head, Ginny finally found her voice. "Uh, no, it's fine. You're more than welcome to join me." She waved to the spot beside her.

Tonks slowly wandered over and settled on the ground, leaving a respectable distance between them. She didn't really know how to act around Ginny. She didn't know what was acceptable or unwelcome. How was she supposed to interact with the young woman who stole a piece of her heart?

A part of her wished Hermione was there. She seemed to always have the right answers.

They stared up at the sky in silence, neither knowing really what to say.

"Did you just get back?" Ginny wondered after a few – long, uncomfortable – minutes.

Tonks nodded. "Yeah. I thought I'd be gone longer but…" she trailed off, unsure if she should talk about Order business with the youngest Weasley. She knew Molly wanted to keep her children out of Order meetings; she was fairly certain the matriarch wouldn't be happy with her if Ginny learned what happened before everyone else did.

"I get it. Secret Order stuff," Ginny smiled.

Tonks timidly returned the smile. Ginny had such a pretty smile; the way her soft lips tugged up, the way her gentle green eyes twinkled in the moonlight…

A tremor worked its way through Tonks' body, but whether it be from the cold night air or from something else, she didn't know. She pulled her jacket closer to her figure, but it did little to fight off the December wind.

Another shiver wracked its way down her spine.

Ginny sighed. She wasn't sure if she was about to be rebuked, but she couldn't stand the idea of Tonks shivering to death beside her. It was obvious Tonks was freezing, so she inched closer.

"Here." She wrapped half of her blanket around Tonks' shoulders and waited. She was expecting Tonks to jerk away from her so it surprised her when she wiggled closer, their sides pressed together beneath their only shield from the cold. She could feel Tonks' warmth seeping into her bones, heating her far more effectively than the blanket ever could.

"Thanks," Tonks murmured, relaxing against the other girl. She tried telling herself that the act itself was completely innocent, but that didn't stop her heart from pounding painfully against her ribs, the butterflies in her stomach wild with anticipation.

It felt so right – but by God, it really shouldn't have.

-X-

It was late when Bellatrix and Hermione managed to wander back into their bedroom. They'd spent their evening chatting with the Death Eaters, talking about what Hermione had missed out while she was away at school, each trying to outdo the other with wild tales. Dolohov had spent most of the night teasing Bellatrix, telling Hermione how nightmarish Bellatrix had been without her there to corral her. The looks the Dark Lord's most loyal sent him promised nothing but pain yet he didn't seem to care. Hermione was back, so he was safe…

For now.

"Merlin, I've missed this," Hermione smiled as she stripped off her clothes.

Bellatrix hummed, a bit miffed at the teasing she'd endured. She used to be feared, but now they dared to mock her. It was unheard of before Hermione. Obviously she'd changed everything but Bellatrix didn't know if it was for the better. Glancing at her lover, she couldn't stop her smile.

Yes, maybe it _was_ for the better.

"Aw, don't look so grumpy," Hermione cooed, waving her girlfriend closer so that she could wrap her arms around Bellatrix's waist. She bit back a moan as Bellatrix's naked body met hers. "They were just playing around."

Bellatrix grumbled but accepted Hermione's embrace, burying her face in Hermione's strong neck. "They used to fear me."

"They still do," Hermione assured her. "I'm certain you're exact your revenge when I'm not around."

Bellatrix would never admit that Hermione was probably right.

Skating her hands across bare skin, Bellatrix pressed her lips to Hermione's neck and nibbled on the supple flesh residing there. She was still aroused from Hermione's previous ministrations before dinner and she was determined to leave Hermione in a similar state. She'd been forced to sit in ruined panties for _hours_ and that just wasn't fair.

Hermione exhaled heavily through her nose, her fingers digging into the plane of Bellatrix's back. Her thighs were already slick with excitement. She'd spent most of the evening aroused, their connection doing little to hide Bellatrix's growing state of horniness. She'd only meant to tease, but it was clear that she'd done a bit more than that.

"Bella…" Hermione sighed, breath catching in her chest as Bellatrix bit down roughly on the junction between her shoulder and throat.

Chuckling huskily, Bellatrix continued peppering her skin in light kisses, driving Hermione mad. Her tongue traced along the darkening marks littering Hermione's neck. "Yes, love?"

"Please?" Hermione whined, nudging Bellatrix back towards the bed.

They fell onto the mattress, a mass of limbs and flesh. Lips met in a messy kiss, teeth clicking together as both tried to gain the upper hand. Hermione's tongue tangled with Bellatrix's while her hands groped the generous cleavage presented freely. Her leg was slotted between her girlfriend's thighs and she flexed, moaning when she noticed how _wet_ Bellatrix was. A part of her felt bad for leaving Bellatrix is such a state for so long, but another part of her was proud. She could have her girlfriend so aroused with so little and that stoked a fire deep in her belly.

Bellatrix's hands fell to Hermione's waist and she dragged her closer, grinding down on Hermione's leg. All she could think about was release and, at the moment, her leg promised that. Her clit brushed against soft, slick skin and a guttural moan broke from her throat.

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione…" her name fell like a prayer from Bellatrix's lips and it served only to spur Hermione on.

Her hand drifted from Bellatrix's breast along her stomach before stopping just above her mound. She stroked the finely trimmed hairs, smirking at her lover. "Is there something you want, darling?"

"Please!" Bellatrix nearly howled.

Hermione leaned back slightly, pressing her hand to Bellatrix's sternum to keep her from chasing after the pleasure Hermione was denying her. Her fingers danced across Bellatrix's hipbone, dragging over the bone before finally dipping lower.

Moaning at first contact, Bellatrix remained against the bed, unable to fight her lover's hold. All she wanted was release and if that meant staying still, she'd do it. She wanted – no, _needed_ – to come.

Hermione brushed her thumb against Bellatrix's engorged clit, her middle and ring finger teasing Bellatrix's dripping core. She pushed one, then two, inside and the noise Bellatrix made was positively intoxicating. She curled her fingers and began thrusting, grinning as Bellatrix's hips moved to match the rhythm of her thrusts. She could never say Bellatrix was a motionless partner.

"Oh Merlin!" Bellatrix whined, her release edging closer and closer to the surface.

Letting her hand fall from Bellatrix's stomach, Hermione slithered down until she was face to face with her prize. She leaned forward, replacing her thumb with her mouth. Taking Bellatrix's bundle of nerves into her mouth, she laved it with her tongue.

Bellatrix shoved her hands into Hermione's hair and held tightly, grinding her hips into her lover's face as she plunged headfirst into her orgasm. It rippled through her like a wave and she lost rhythm, her hips stuttering as she flooded Hermione's mouth.

Hermione continued licking her through her orgasm and quickly brought her to another, humming contentedly when Bellatrix's grip lessened and her body grew slack. She briefly considered drawing it out or causing another, but the pathetic moan that fell from parted lips halted her plans. She didn't want the night to end just yet and it very well might if she didn't give Bellatrix time to recuperate. She slipped up Bellatrix's body and pressed their lips together, letting her girlfriend taste herself on her tongue.

"Merlin, that was amazing," Bellatrix mumbled against her mouth.

"I know," Hermione replied cockily, though her giggle broke her façade.

Bellatrix rolled them over and straddled Hermione's hips, moaning as her overly sensitive clit brushed against Hermione's stomach.

"Round two?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix smirked. "Oh yes."

She clearly wasn't in a teasing mood. Her hand sneaked between their bodies, fingers finding purchase on Hermione's throbbing clit. She rubbed it in slow, even circles, watching Hermione's face intently as pleasure found its way in the pit of Hermione's belly.

"Oh God," Hermione whimpered, her hands gripping at Bellatrix's waist. She could still taste Bellatrix on her tongue and the wicked way her fingers moved had her arching upwards towards the heavens in seconds. "Don't stop."

"I didn't plan to," Bellatrix replied, her voice deeper and huskier than Hermione had ever heard it before.

Three fingers slipped inside easily and Hermione moaned loudly. Absently, she thanked whoever was listening for the fact their room was a floor above the others'. She'd never be able to face Draco – or, Merlin forbid – _Narcissa_ ever again if they heard the noises escaping her.

Leaning down, Bellatrix captured a pert nipple in her mouth, teeth scraping across the responsive flesh as she curled her fingers. They dragged along a rougher hint of skin deep within her girlfriend and Hermione whined appreciatively, prompting Bellatrix to rub it again and again until Hermione tightened around her digits, holding them hostage as she rode out her own orgasm. It was violent and sudden, but oh so pleasurable and she wondered how she'd managed to hold on as long as she had.

_Merlin, it's so good to be home._

-X-

The next day found Hermione sitting in the library, a book in her hand and a cup of tea beside her. Bellatrix was off doing something for the Dark Lord. She didn't know _what_ and she wasn't sure she wanted to. It was better that way; plausible deniability and all that. She was alone for the most part, only the occasional house elf coming by to check on her.

It was odd, being alone. She was so used to being surrounded by her classmates that the silence was almost deafening. She didn't like it, if she was being honest with herself. She missed the noise. It stopped the thunderous thoughts racing through her mind.

She often thought about the tasks given to her when she was alone. Sometimes she'd contemplate the hatred residing in her heart – hatred aimed at the man she was supposed to murder. She hated Dumbledore with every ounce of her being, but could she really kill him in cold blood? Was she that kind of monster?

She wanted to say yes. She wanted to be strong enough to end the man who'd tried to ruin her life, but she wasn't sure she'd ever be capable of it. He'd done terrible things, but could she stoop to his level?

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Hermione set her book aside. She wasn't sure what she was reading anymore. All the words blurred together and left nothing but a jumbled mess. She wanted to say it was about the Dark Arts, but she really couldn't be certain.

A knock on the door startled her from her thoughts and Hermione glanced up. "Narcissa," she greeted with a faint smile. "What can I do for you?"

"I figured now would be a good time to talk, if you have a moment," Narcissa replied, an unreadable emotion playing in her bright blue eyes.

"Of course." Hermione gestured for the older woman to join her, scooting over to the corner of the couch.

Narcissa stepped into the room, a bundle of papers clutched tightly in her hand. Her hands were trembling a little and it concerned Hermione. It was rare to see Narcissa so unnerved; her composure never faltered. Why was it faltering now?

"Are you okay?" Hermione inquired, accepting the papers Narcissa passed her.

Clearing her throat primly, the Malfoy matriarch nodded her head as she perched herself on the edge of the couch. "I'm fine, Hermione. Go ahead and read."

Hermione's attention fell to the parchment in her grasp and let her eyes drift along the neatly written script. Her brows bunched. It was the same potion recipes she'd given Narcissa months ago, though there was writing along the margins now. She could see the difference in Narcissa's writing and her mother's, but that was the only new development.

"I'm not sure I understand," Hermione admitted, looking at Narcissa.

"Keep reading them," Narcissa urged.

Going to the next piece of paper, Hermione paused. She hadn't read most of her mother's concoctions, stopping once she'd realized what she'd found, so it startled her to see a recipe for liquid Cruciatus. It didn't seem like the type of thing Kathryn would create – all of her diary entries and other work had made her seem so good and caring – yet here was proof that maybe her mother wasn't quite what she'd thought.

Flipping through the pages hurriedly, her eyes scanned the tops of the papers. _A potion to counteract Veritaserum, a powerful Pepper-Up potion, a potion to mend bones, a way to cheat death…_

Once she realized what she'd read, Hermione grasped that particular paper with shaking hands and studied it intently. Part of her wasn't surprised. Her mother was a brilliant woman caught up in a horrid war; of course she'd try and find a back-up plan, but this…

This was beyond anything she could have imagined.

"All of the potions I've tried to make have worked," Narcissa began quietly, earning a startled look from Hermione. "I haven't attempted any of the more complex potions as of yet, but the stronger version of a Pepper-Up potion has worked. So has the one mending bones and the potion meant to cure hangovers. Your mother was a genius, well ahead of her time. I feared, though, that if I were to admit they worked, they might fall into the wrong hands. Some of what she's created is dangerous – _very_ dangerous – and I didn't want our Lord to know of them."

"That's why you lied," Hermione mumbled knowingly, her eyes falling back to the paper. "Do you think this potion worked? Could she be…?"

"I don't know," Narcissa admitted. "But it is quite possible, if Kathryn knew what was coming, that she could have made a batch and saved her life. But there is also a chance she didn't know, Hermione. And she probably didn't have any idea the ramifications. It might have saved her, but what became of her or what the potion did is still a mystery."

Hermione's hands violently shook. Her mother might be alive.

Narcissa continued, a gentle inflection in her tone, "Sweetheart, do not get your hopes up. Until we know what happened the night of your mother's death, we won't be able to help her. And I can't promise that Kathryn will still be Kathryn if we should find her."

With a shaky nod, Hermione returned the parchment to Narcissa. She knew Narcissa was right, but she couldn't help the hope blossoming in her chest. Maybe she hadn't lost her mother. Maybe Dumbledore _hadn't_ taken everything from her. But that train of thought brought with it more complications.

Did he know where her mother's body was? Did he hide her away once he realized what happened? And now, knowing what she did, could she really kill him? If he was the only thing standing between her and Kathryn, could she knowingly destroy the one person who might hold all the answers?

"Keep making these potions," Hermione instructed firmly. "Keep testing them. We need to know which ones work and which ones don't." Narcissa opened her mouth, but Hermione stopped her with a glance. "Don't tell the others what you're working on. They don't need to know. You're right when you said these could be dangerous. They could be extremely dangerous, but they might come in handy should we ever need them. But please, don't lie to me again."

Something uneasy settled in the pit of Narcissa's stomach but she acquiesced with a nod. She knew Hermione wasn't wrong, but the idea of creating such powerful potions left a nasty taste in her mouth. If the Dark Lord found out about their deception, his retribution would be severe and she didn't want to put Hermione or – Merlin forbid, _Draco_ – in his line of fire.

Hermione reached out and took Narcissa's hand. "It will be all right. I'll take the blame if he ever finds out," she assured Narcissa.

"Hermione…"

"Trust me." Hermione held Narcissa's gaze.

Narcissa searched for something in Hermione's eyes before nodding. "I do."


End file.
